Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone thinks being homeless is the most horrible thing, the lowest low any human can come to. And really, there are days, where it just won’t stop raining or the snow is thicker than fleece blankets that, yeah, it’s absolutely horrid. And he wouldn’t wish it anyone, if he’s being completely honest. But then there are days where the spring grass feels soft under his fingers or the wind feels freeing as it blows through his hair that he realizes, he definitely doesn’t have it as bad as people think he does. Just because he has to tuck away in corners of alley ways, eat food that probably is a few days too old or walk around with torn socks doesn’t mean he’s not happy. It just means that he appreciates the moments that go unrecognized all the more.

x

A common misconception that Bucky had noticed as the years went by was that just because he was homeless, people thought he didn’t have a job. And really, he didn’t blame them for thinking that. But he did have one, though the terms of what the job is is pretty loose, it pays him money and keeps him occupied. It’s a horribly shitty job as a stocker in a 24/7 market, the graveyard shift that no one else wants. But it’s quiet and a long enough shift that during the winter it warms up his bones and during the summer it cools him down. Bucky’s favorite part though is how easy it is for him to get lost in his work. He lifts crates, counts all the product, then puts them on the shelves for the next day. Sometimes he’s there long enough that the next shipment will come and he volunteers to do that too, even though his manager tells him they won’t give him time and a half for it. Bucky doesn’t mind, he just likes being useful.

Really, he feels lucky to have the job at all. What with not having a licence, passport, birth certificate, hell far as he knows he technically doesn’t exist in the eye of the government. The woman who hired him must have felt nice the day she said she would take him in. He’s also pretty sure she knows that he lives on the streets cause she’ll sometimes tell Bucky to clean out the employee fridge and there will be a full plate of food sitting there. When asked, she would just shrug and tell him to throw it out if no one says it’s theirs by the end of his shift. But with the way she looks at him after saying that, as if she can look right through him, she has got to know. That and when asked why he had put the address of a condemned apartment building on his application, he stutted and was a second too late to tell her it was a mistake for it not to be obvious. It’s not that Bucky is completely ashamed of being homeless, he just knows that people don’t want to hire the homeless. The stigma that homeless are thought as lazy or unstable drug addicts has ruined his chances of getting a job far too much for him to openly admit it to his bosses now.

Which leads to him now, stuffing beautiful peaches on a shelf, spewing cold air over his body that makes him shiver. His cassette walkman is heavy in his sweater pocket, a relic he found in at a free swap shop at the edge of town. The tinny noises of The Ramones hummed through his cheap headphones, setting his pace that he works in. He’s getting lost in his work, grabbing the peach from the crate then stuffing it on the shelf. The market is empty from what Bucky can tell, the produce section barren of people except for himself. Pick up the peach, put it on the shelf. The lights above him are washing out the colors around him and he’s starting to forget what time it is. His eyes quickly scan over to the windows next to him, as if the dark sky is going to tell him the hour. He shrugs and picks up another peach to put on the shelf. Then another one. His feet start aching but he’s used to it by now, cause he’s only got a few more peaches left. It’s then that he feels a tapping on his shoulder that makes him jump in his spot and spin around. Peaches come tumbling down from the shelf where they were getting piled up on, making Bucky curse under his breath and bend down to start picking them up. It’s when the stranger kneels down next to him to also pick up the fruit that he looks over at them.

If there’s one thing that Bucky remembers from being a kid, it was watching those stupid soap operas on the TV with his drunken mother. She’d have the volume on so loud that it’d drown out all the other noises around them, making Bucky’s ears ring whenever he tried to go to sleep. But he remembered when a character, her name was Melissa, first met her love interest Jacob. It was in the middle of a festival or some kind of street faire and she looked at him with awe. Bucky remembered how handsome he was, with sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. Melissa immediately fell in love, watching the man glow in the sunlight and stand out in the crowd. Suddenly, he felt like he was in that shitty soap, with how ridiculously handsome this guy was and everything else seemed blurred around them.

His shoulders were thick and strong, his athletic compression shirt tight against his torso. His arms were the size of tree trunks, huge and bulging from the sleeves. It was then that Bucky realized he was talking, or rather his lips were moving but he couldn’t hear him. He pulled his headphones off, listening to him now,

“-sorry, I’m sorry, I thought you were just ignoring me. I’m sorry, gosh, I’ll buy the bruised ones, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright. They’re just peaches.” Delicious and expensive peaches that he would kill for, but peaches none the less, “Happens. Is there something you wanted?” He asked while stuffing the last few peaches in his crate, staring at it now with distaste.

The guy rubbed the back of his neck and coughed as if to clear his throat, “I was just going to ask you if you knew where the cherries were… they’re usually over next to the strawberries but…”

“I didn’t put them out yet.” Bucky finished his sentence, standing up and brushing off the knees of his worn black jeans. When the man stood up, Bucky got an eye full of that body, tight and big under the work out clothes. What the guy was doing, working out at god knows what hour is beyond Bucky but he wasn’t one to judge. But God, he’s like some kind living statue he’s seen in those museum pamphlet, perfect muscles on top of perfect muscles.

“Could you, only if you can it’s fine but can you, maybe-” Pretty, but not very articulate,

“I’ll go get some. Just one container?”

The blonde nodded and Bucky stuffed his headphones into his sweater pocket, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t much of a surprise that Bucky was so attracted to him, having come to terms with his bisexuality ages ago. But couldn’t remember the last time he actually felt attraction for someone, let alone someone that wasn’t printed on some magazine cover. Even though this guy looked like he could be. Bucky wasn’t delusional enough to think that he had a chance with the guy though, not when his hair was stringy with grease or the weird stains on the thighs of his pants from spilled milk. He’s sure he must smell like something fierce too, not quite recalling the last time he had a shower that wasn’t from a sink. So with a sigh, he pushed through the doors to the warehouse section of the market, kicked crates around until he found the cherries and grabbed a plastic container. He’d have to make sure he remembered to tell his manager about this so that one isn’t missing from the invoice count at the end of the day. With another heavy sigh, he made his way back to the stranger with the fruit.

When Bucky got back, the guy was actually putting away the peaches. His shopping basket was at his feet, just a few mangoes and a head of lettuce in there, while he grabbed handfuls of peaches to put on the shelf. Bucky walked up to him and whistled low, looking at the nearly empty crate, “You’re too good at that, don’t let my manager see or else she’ll hire you instead.”

The guy looked over at him and a soft blush spread across his cheeks, putting the peach in his hands away before standing there awkwardly. Bucky’s grin dropped a little before holding the berries out, “Here you go.”

The stranger took the package and looked at the ruby red cherries, smiling a little and nodding his head in thanks. Stiffly, the guy reached down for his basket and put the cherries in it. He flapped his arms a little and stuttered out a thank you before leaving, that is after apologizing one more time. Bucky stood still for a second before letting out one final sigh and getting back to work. It was weird but things like that happen when its really late, weird people do weird things at god knows what time, like picking up a peach and putting it on a shelf.

x

The closest thing Bucky has to a house is a rusty abandoned van under an overpass. It’s really far from the market but it’s the best place to be during the harsh seasons. It’s pressed against a column of the bridge, nearly melded to it now with all the rust on it. Bucky found it while exploring the area one day, and it's been a great addition to his life. He worked to get it the way it is now, gutting out the chairs except for the driver seat and wiping away whatever stains he could find with an old rag soaked in bleach. That was nearly two years ago and now the van is like his own little nest. Inside are blankets that he’d found abandoned on curbs that he cleaned with cheap dish soap from the market, lining nearly the entire floor of the van. Thin crimson sheets block out the windows during the day, casting a red glow in the car. Broken windchimes and pretty strings of beads are hung along the sides of the van, everything strategically duct-taped all along the walls. It’s kind of run down and moldy smelling but it still is the most comfortable place he’s ever stayed in since he’d taken to the streets. In some ways, he was really proud of it for the measly amount of money he makes and the amount of time he’s there. Of course Bucky knows better than to get attached to any of it but he can’t help it, when he wakes up to birds singing outside his window and the sight of the sun streaming through the windows in a warm hue. It’s enough for him.

Or atleast, it usually is. Tonight though, after that weird shift at work and the sun starting to rise thickly in the skyline, it’s the loneliest place on Earth. He slid the van door open and looked inside, at the draping sheets and hanging windchimes, the half melted candle sticks and piles of clothing that are scattered around. His van that he’s sure he’ll one day get kicked out of by police or raided by some other bum, the only thing keeping him sane right now. The sound of the door opening alerted his only neighbor, a stinky orange tabby cat that finds shelter under the van. With a long stretch, the feline slid out from under and looked up at Bucky with a meow.

“What, asking for rent again? I already gave it to you yesterday.” Bucky crawled into the van and shifted around to sit facing outside, letting the cool Autumn air clear the musky smell inside. The cat rubbed against his shin, it’s stubby tail pressing against his leg when she sat at his feet. With a sigh, he took off his backpack and reached inside, opening a can of cat food that he got from his job for her. He put it on the ground for the cat to nibble at, petting her back gingerly while watching. The sound of cars driving by on the highway above him was something he was usually used to but today it was making his skin crawl, so he turned his walkman on and put on the headphones. He dropped back to lay across the mess of sheets and blankets, legs dangling from the side.

x

Bucky woke up to the sound of a car crash above him. He startled awake and lay still, the sound of a car honking endlessly shaking him to his core. There was a high pitched scream and tires screeching, then the rushed noises of people slamming doors and yelling. Soon after, police and fire truck sirens rang through and the yelling only got louder. Bucky stared at the ceiling above him, staring at the painted stars and moons from the previous owners. He stared at it so hard, laying completely still while listening. There was the sound of sobbing ringing through the air, heavy and choking the person. Out of all the noise, that had to be loudest. Bucky covered his ears with blankets and dirty pillows, but still heard the sobbing. He curled into a ball in his blankets, knees tucked tightly against his chest, trying not to listen to the wrecked sobs. But it was all he could hear. It kept him awake for hours, until it got disturbingly quiet. Then it was just his own labored breathing and choked back cries.

x

Another thing that keeps Bucky sane is his bicycle. It was once forgotten in the middle of Central Park, thrown across the grass and left to rust for weeks before Bucky grabbed it. He had put all his money together to get the tires filled, screws tightened and the chains oiled down that by the time he was done with it, it was like new. The paint was still chipped in certain places and the spokes were starting to rust but it was still his prized possession. He rode it from Time Square to Grand Central, Tribeca to Lower East Side, Soho to Chelsea, everywhere the roads could take him. But his favorite will always be a cyclist path in a park tucked away in the Village, packed with runners and rollerbladers all hours of the day. It’s a simple circuit, surrounded by trees and secluded from the craziness of New York. When he has nights like the previous, where the noise and chaos of living here gets the best of him, this is where he goes. And right now, while the sun beats down on them from the last warm days of Fall, it’s paradise.

His legs were starting to burn from riding everywhere but it felt nice. The headphones on his head were still blaring out music but this time it was something new that he had found in a trash pile a few days earlier. It was fast tempoed with horns and jazz drums, setting his pace to keep him going throughout the day. Bucky had his backpack on, stuffed with the essentials he’d need in his life. His ultimate plan was to get to a laundromat after his bike ride, where the owner lets him do a load of laundry for free during a certain time of the day. It’s far away, but it’s nothing his bike couldn’t handle. Today was a good day so far, despite what happened during his sleep. He’s found his own way of unwinding down, fine tuned it to cleanse out the pain he feels. He was confident for the day.

That is, until a runner came to a stop in front of him, making him crash straight into him. Bucky yelped and screeched his tires loudly, tipping over and falling onto the ground harshly. The stranger also collapsed back onto the pavement, groaning in pain. Bucky’s jeans ripped at his knees, the skin under red and bloody. Bucky groaned, feeling a throbbing ache across his entire body. He laid on his side, taking in deep breaths to calm down while the stranger started to get up.

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?!”
That voice was uncomfortably familiar. Bucky looked over and his brief suspicions was correct. The tired customer from the previous night was there, wearing a different set of workout clothes this time but still as devastatingly beautiful as before. Bucky groaned, just his luck.
“I’m fine..” Bucky started, but hissed when trying to get up. His ankle felt like it had sprained, a sharp and shooting pain through his joint. Bucky took a deep breath in, looking over at him. His clothes had dirt on them, no doubt from being nearly run over by the bike. Other than that though, he looked as if he did more damage than took it. Bucky wasn’t surprised, since he was built like a brick house, “Are you okay?”

The blonde stranger nodded, looking at Bucky’s ankle, “Does it hurt?”

Bucky shrugged and tried to stand up again, keeping the pressure off of his ankle. But the man was receptive, instantly noticing that he was avoiding his foot.

“Let me check it out, I have first aid training.”

Bucky let out an airy laugh, suddenly very conscious of his stinky clothes and how he had ran out of deodorant the day before and can’t get a new stick yet. So he shook his head, picking up his bike. Ontop of it all, his tire had bent nearly out of the screws that kept it in place. Bucky stared at it, how the wheel was curved and completely unrideable, “I’m fine.” Bucky croaked out, desperately trying to hold back his flood of emotions from his bent bike.

“I can help, sit down.”

Bucky was ready to protest, even started to get annoyed, but when he looked up at the blonde stranger, he let out a breath. His annoyance and his frustration seemed to seep out with the sigh, looking over the stranger’s beautiful blue eyes and how they were genuinely etched with concern. Like he really did just want to help him, true and not at all obscured with bad intentions. So Bucky gave up, nodding his head meekly and let the stranger help him sit down on the grass at the side of the path.

With careful and deft hands, the blonde lifted his pant leg at the ankle and took off his sneaker. Bucky turned his head in shame at his dirty and stained socks, holding back the stinging tears in his eyes. But he didn’t say anything nor did he at all project an aura of judgement. Carefully, he bent his foot around, Bucky wincing each time it was bent in any direction that wasn’t straight. With a sigh, the stranger put his shoe back on and sat back on his haunches,
“It’s definitely sprained. I can take you to the hospital, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention, I could’v-”

“I’m fine. I don’t need the hospital.” Bucky mumbled out. There was no way he could afford that kind of treatment. “I’ll… soak it? When I get.. home…”

The stranger watched him carefully, and Bucky couldn’t help but look back. Though his head was still tilted in a different direction of him, Bucky still got a clear view of his entire being. It was as if they were complete opposites. The stranger was thick and healthy looking where Bucky was thin and pastey. His own hair was long and stringy, well past his jawline while the stranger was short, and well kept, golden under Spring sunlight. Bucky felt small compared to him, as if he were just a mortal in the presence of a deity. He felt as if just being near him will get him irrevocably dirty, and Bucky will have to carry that guilt with him.

“You work at the store.” The stranger blurted, then his cheeks seemed to ting with a peachy blush. Bucky could only nod along, causing the stranger to start to smile. It was brilliant and beautiful, warm and caring, “Then I owe you a favor for getting me those cherries anyway. I have bandages and things at my place, let me atleast wrap this up.”

There was a moment where Bucky tried to assess the stranger, get a feel for him. There was always that chance that he could be a crazy serial killer, luring him in with his stunning smiles and dangerously bulging pecs. But there was no way someone with that innocent of puppy eyes could be a murderer, not with how sincere he really did look. Besides, what did Bucky have to lose?

So with a sigh, he nodded and tried to stand up. The stranger helped him instantly, wrapping his arm under his and holding up, then reached down to hook the bike over his free arm easily, as if it were made from paper. Bucky limped with his help, trying desperately not to think about if he smelled or if he was dirty, careful not to mess up the generous stranger.

x

Turned out the guy, whose name is apparently Steve (which her learned from a semi awkward introduction while Steve was essentially lifting him up to help him walk,) owned a Range Rover big enough to squeeze his mangled bike into. That was Bucky’s first clue as to how much money Steve had, well aware just how expensive it was to own a car in the city. The second flag was when they pulled up to a townhouse in Brooklyn. There weren't many townhouses in New York, and most of them were crammed into tight corners nearly on top of each other. This was was a decent size with it’s own parking garage (arguably, it was shared with the other residents of the community.) Bucky could feel his eyes nearly bulging out of his eye sockets while they drove there, disbelieving at first until Steve parked and helped him inside to his place.

Inside was bigger than Bucky could have ever fathomed. He always wondered what the inside of the fancy townhouses looked like and Bucky was about to fall over from just how beautiful it was. There weren’t many homes in NYC that had fireplaces but this was one of them, made entirely out of brick to match the wall around it. It was homey and contemporary, the windows open to let in the warm Autumn breeze. The place looked like it belonged in a magazine, beautiful down to the dark hardwood floors.

Steve seemed sheepish the entire time Bucky was scoping out the place, tucking the bike in the mudroom of the home, then helping Bucky to sit down on a ridiculously huge and comfy leather couch,
“I’ll be right back. I’ll bring back something to drink too.. Make yourself comfortable.”

Then he left, going upstairs to where Bucky guesses is the first aid. At that moment, Bucky couldn’t tell if he was an idiot or just really trusting, to leave a guy like him alone in his beautiful house. Not only was there hundreds of dollars worth in electronics and trinkets around but the guy had left his wallet and keys on the kitchen counter across from him. Bucky squinted at it all, trying to get an idea of what exactly is happening here. Never in a hundred years did Bucky ever think he would be in this position, presented with a bounty of opportunity and the real kicker was that he had no urge to follow up on any of it. There wasn’t a single part of him that begged to rip the flat screen from the wall and resell it or raid through his wallet and take his cash. There was just appreciation, shame, and a little bit of relief. So he sat back on the couch, sinking further into the plush leather and let out a sigh. His ankle was throbbing, his bike was ruined, and it was starting to get dark out but there wasn’t a single part of him at this exact moment that was worried. Just, content.

When Steve came back, he had two water bottles in hand and a big red first aid kit. Bucky moved sit up but Steve waved him off,
“Relax, I got this.”

Bucky smiled a little and nodded, slouching back down onto the couch. It was possibly the most comfortable place he had sat on in a very long time, and Bucky didn’t want to move a single inch away from it. Steve down on his knees infront of Bucky and he had to look away for a moment, try not to think about all of things he wanted to think about this extremely generous person he had just met.
“This looks pretty bad. You’re starting to bruise a little. I think you’re going to need crutches for a while.”

And that was the worst thing that Steve could have possibly said, and it felt as though he had poured a shock of cold water over him. If he can’t walk, how is going to get to work? How is he going to be able to do anything, he doesn’t own a car like Steve or a fancy townhouse like Steve. Suddenly everything felt tight, and the beautiful warm walls felt cold and suffocating. Bucky made moves to get up, an apology already on his lips but Steve stopped him, a gentle hand on his shoulder,

“Hey, it’s okay.”

Bucky looked up from his panicked shifted gaze up at Steve, who was hovering over him, carrying a roll of ace bandages. The wave of panic didn’t necessarily subside but it calmed, making Bucky swallow nervously and still shift his eyes around, “I should go.”

Steve looked at him carefully then nodded, “Okay, that’s fine. Let me just wrap your ankle, if you try walking now it’ll just get worse.”

It was then that Bucky heard it, distant and echoed across the house. Steve went at a complete stand still, his lips tucked into his mouth as if he were trying to hold back laughter. A tiny, and small meow. Bucky looked at the stairs behind them, another high pitched meow ringing through,
“You have a cat?”

Steve chuckled awkwardly and hesitantly put down the bandages, “Are you allergic? I’m sorry, I moved her into my room in case you were. I just got her, she can’t come down the stairs yet-”

“Steve, it’s fine. I like cats.” Bucky thought of his landlord, the orange tabby with patches of matted fur and its stubby tail. Just then, he really wished it was here.

Steve seemed to light up when he said that, standing up straight and gesturing his thumb to the stairs, “Do you wanna see her?”

Bucky thought for a second then nodded. Steve excitedly left and bound up the stairs to get the cat, Bucky waiting anxiously. When he came back, Bucky saw that not only did Steve have a cat but it was a kitten, barely big enough to fit snugly in the palm of his huge hand.

Steve, the huge body builder/athlete he was, had a grey kitten cupped in his hands,
“Her name is Mookie. My… friend… named her.” He nervously added, handing over the small bundle of fur to him.

The kitten looked up at him, meowing loudly up at him. Bucky grinned and scratched at the top of her head, his fingertip nearly taking up all of the space between her ears, “Mookie? Really?”

Steve laughed and shrugged, taking the bandages and getting back to work at wrapping his ankle, “She was a housewarming gift. A couple of years late but I wasn’t ready when I first moved here.”

Bucky let the small kitten roam across his stomach and lap, his tiny claws poking at him as she tried to climb up his chest, “How old is she?”

“A month and a half. My friend had kittens and shoved her onto me. She’s the runt of her litter, so her mom kind of rejected her. But my friend took care of her until she was able to be alone.” Steve wrapped the bandage tightly around his ankle, keeping it completely in place. The kitten rolled up like a bun in the crack of his thighs, warming him up while it purred and looked around. Bucky concentrated on the kitten, still petting her with his finger contently. She was soft and still downy with fuzzy fur, looking at Steve below them.

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve was watching the two with amusement. Bucky seemed to immediately take a liking to the kitten, and same with her. “Do you have one?”

Bucky shrugged a little and licked his lips, “Kind of. S’more like the neighborhood cat I guess…”

Steve nodded and clasped the bandage together, gently patting at the wrapping then standing up, “Well, you’re all done… So…”

Bucky stopped petting the cat then looked up at Steve, remembering that he was going to leave when he finished. Suddenly he didn’t feel as urgent a need to leave, especially with how cozy he was sitting right here, “Oh, yeah…” Even to Bucky he could hear how disappointed he sounded, wincing a little and clearing his throat. He wrapped his hand around the tiny kitten and held it up for Steve, who took her back gently. Bucky stood up carefully, his ankle singing from the pain. But he ignored it, even managed to kind of cover the wince of pain.

“I should get going..” Bucky mumbled out, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Thank you so much Steve, you didn’t have to…”

“It’s fine, I’m glad I could help… Sorry about your bike.”

That right. His bike was ruined. Bucky turned to look at it and sighed, visibly sagging on the spot, “Yeah... Thanks.”

There was an awkward pause between the two, only the soft purring from Mookie ringing through. Then Bucky started hobbling over to his bike. Steve reached out but seemed to think otherwise then, instead moving his hand to pet Mookie,
“Can I give you a ride home? You really shouldn’t be walking…”

Bucky laughed bitterly, shrugging and holding onto his bike for support, “Thanks, Steve, but it’s fine. I’m going to be walking either way.” Besides, what was he going to tell Steve? To drop him off at his rusty van that could essentially fit in the very living room that Steve was standing in? That there really wasn’t a place he called home that he could take him to? That he was alone, penniless and without a roof over his head overall? Bucky shook his head, limping his way out of the building. He wanted to leave as quickly as possible, his stomach turning with disgust at himself.

Steve watched him with concern then gave up. But he put his cat down on the couch and rushed to the kitchen island counter next to them, grabbing a pad of paper and a pen, scribbling down a series of numbers, “At least take my number.” He ripped the paper off and held it for Bucky to take. There was a brief moment of inner conflict where Bucky tried to decide he really should take the note. That would mean that Steve would expect him to contact him again and he doesn’t exactly have any phones. But there was a hopeful look on Steve’s face, and he looked as if this was the sole thing that would make him happy right now. So Bucky took the paper, he couldn’t look in his eye while reaching for it, but when handed it he shoved it in his pocket and limped his way out.

“Call me sometime, alright? Even if it’s just for some coffee or something…”

Bucky felt a chill run down his body as he threw a tight smile over his shoulder at Steve, recognizing the sound of pity and recognition anywhere. He knew. He had to know. He had to know that Bucky wasn’t the type of friend he’d want. The scum of New York City, the waste of society. Steve wouldn’t want a friend like Bucky, someone who would only drag him down. So Bucky hastily wiped away the moisture from his eyes and limped his way to work, which would take twice as long to get to now that he was broken.

x

The second his boss saw him, she sent him away. There was blood on his knee and it had dripped down his pant leg, his limping had gotten even worse and there was a thick layer of sweat covering his entire body. When Bucky tried to argue that he was fine, she gave him a pointed look. Bucky swallowed down his urge to lash out of her pity, he was just fine. He was fine and there was no reason for him to leave. But she was insistent, even offered to pay him for this time off. She reasoned that this was his first sick day in over two years, that he deserved it. So Bucky relented, and limped “home”.

Just as he had arrived to his van, it had started downpouring. His ankle was throbbing with pain from walking all day, getting to his job had taken forever from how far Steve lived and the walk to the van only made it worse. When he arrived, he pulled his walkman from his sweater pocket and saw that while it had gotten scratched, it was still in perfect condition. With a weak smile, he pulled on his headphones and opened the doors to the van. He curled up with the pile of thin blankets and listened to the music on low while watching the rain fall. His landlord cat crawled from under the van and hopped up into the carriage, curling next to Bucky warmly.

Bucky reached forward to pet her, running his fingers through her shaggy and matted fur. She purred and stretched next to him, Bucky feeling every bone in her ribcage easily. She must have felt how distressed Bucky was just then, how easily he was ready to snap. His life had been rocked out of his comfortable cradle of repetition. He was forced to stay behind from work and he had pretended that he was somewhat normal to someone who saw right through him. Steve… The very thought of Steve brought tears back to his eyes, stinging harshly behind his eyelids. This time, though, he didn’t let himself pretend everything was okay. That he was okay. He was hurt. He was inadequate. He was a waste of space. Bucky could never be what he’d want to be, which was a person that was worth being around.

Bucky let the tears fall and groaned out in pain, the sound disguised by the heavy downpour of rain outside. He wept and sobbed, curling into himself tighter and tighter the more he cried.
He had to accept who he was.

x

The next day Bucky laid down in the van with nowhere to go. He stayed curled in the blankets and stared off into the cloudy skies. It had stopped raining at some point during the night but remained cloudy as the day went on. His ankle still hurt with every movement he made but he didn’t care too much about it. For now, he was just going to keep laying down and listen to a tape of piano music he found a few years back. In a distant memory, far away and fuzzy around the edges, he once played the piano. He had a family that loved to listen to him play, and would listen every chance they got. His father would pat him on the back, his mother smile proudly, and his sister would try to sit on the bench with him. That was so long ago, Bucky barely remembered their faces anymore.

Bucky doesn’t regret much in his life, he didn’t have the time to regret things. But the only thing he did regret was thinking he could do this by himself. Thinking that he could live his life by himself. Tragedy made him rough around the edges and hesitant to look anyone in the eye. It turned his heart to stone and shaped him into a broken man. He tried to hold onto his pieces as he fell apart but his hands were full already. The sudden thought of his now long gone family made his stomach dip and churn uneasily, tears lining his eyes once again. But he refused to let them fall, there was so much he could cry willingly. Bucky could do this. He can keep going.

But for now, he just needed to stare at the clouds in the sky and think about the pain he has gone through for a while. Just for now.

x

Admittedly, Bucky lost track of the days. He lost track of how long he had been laying down ontop of damp blankets and managed to ignore the ache in his stomach for a few days he was sure. He picked at cans of peas and corn, but never was able to finish it. There was just something stopping him from eating his fill, instead completely disinterested in eating. His ankle was a dull ache that he was starting to get used to, the bruises now starting to fade. Bucky would stare at the harsh purple and yellow marks that blotched his skin, sometimes pressing his fingers against it to feel the sharp pain. He wasn’t sure why he did it but then again, he wasn’t sure why he’s done a lot of things.

The paper that had Steve’s number on it was stilled crumpled in his pocket, a heavy reminder of the life he wished he could have.

x

When Bucky realized he missed two days of work, he rushed to the supermarket. The entire time his ankle felt like it was on fire, the heat of pain shooting up his entire leg. But he had no choice but to ignore it, hoping that the pain would be worth it in favor of keeping his job. Before going straight into his shift, he decided to face his boss instead of hiding away from her. Bucky trudged through the warehouse and knocked on the door to her office, waiting until he heard a soft voice ring out for him to come in. What he was surprised to see, when he hobbled inside, was his boss talking with Steve. Bucky looked between the two for a moment before his boss let out a chuckle and waved at Bucky,
“There you are, I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

Steve looked shyly at Bucky, his hands tucked into the pockets of his khakis. Bucky swallowed nervously and looked back at his boss, nodding his head shakily,
“I’m really sorry Ms. Romanoff, I wasn’t feeling well, I-”

“James, don’t worry about it. I know about your situation, just try to at least call next time.”

Bucky nodded and looked between the two one more time. Bucky wanted to ask about the two apparently knowing each other, seeing as how they appeared so comfortable around each other, but he found that he didn’t really have anything to say. So he lamely waved at Steve before turning to leave the room. But his boss stopped him, asking,

“James, you know Steve, right?” Bucky swore he heard Steve start to hushly say something but she interrupted him, “He was just telling me about how you helped him a few weeks ago.”

James licked his lips nervously and weighed the pros and cons of just ignoring her. Deciding that it would cause more harm than good to do so, he turned on his heel to face them again and nodded stiffly.

“He was also telling me how he was the perpetrator for spraining your ankle. Along with other personal damages.” She side eyed Steve with a devilish grin.

Before she could continue, Steve interrupted, “What Natasha is trying to say is that I wanted to apologize for your bike. I tried finding you in the store but you weren’t here. I have… a friend…” His boss chuckled lowly to herself, “Who could repair your bike.”

The entire time Steve was talking, Natasha had an amused expression on her face, arms crossed over her chest in a solid stance. Looking at her now, Bucky is reminded of the fact that she is a veteran. She has an all too familiar look of being haunted by something but, unlike Bucky, she knows how to handle her baggage. She can smile and for brief moments, seemingly forget about her trauma.

If only it were that easy for him.

Bucky realizes that he had spaced out when Steve called out his name, looking back at him and swallowing nervously, “It’s alright. Thank you.” He croaked out, turning around quickly and leaving the room. He had heard them call for him but he pretended not to notice them, rushing off to start his shift.

There was just something about seeing Steve there, standing in all of his beautiful excellence. Standing there with his tempting form fitting trousers and the light coat of cat fur that starting to cover his clothes. With his earnest smile and golden hair, perfect and shining in a world full of dark, cold loneliness.

Bucky was used to being teased by life, by the heady smell of roasting chestnut in Winter or when he watched fashionable New Yorkers walk by with fresh pastries in the Summer. He was constantly reminded of his own misfortunes. But being faced with Steve, that’s the worst thing life could do to him.

x

His shift was slow and very painful. There was a lot of work that he was behind on but his boss seemed to take pity on him and let him work slow. He had to stop and sit down to get pressure off his ankle every now and then but he still worked as diligently as he could. He was offered asprin for the injury and he gladly accepted, but it started to kick in towards the end of his shift. So he sighed and accepted that at least he wouldn’t be limping to the van this time.

Except he was once again intercepted by the hauntingly familiar face on his way out. Bucky sighed and stuffed his hands into the front pouch of his sweater, slamming the door shut behind him,
“Go home, Steve.” Bucky mumbled out.

“Let me help.” Steve asked, sounding as though he wanted to be confident but instead sounded desperate.

Bucky pulled the hood up and over his head, “Go away, please.” In his pocket, his hands started to shake.

“Why won’t you let me help?” Steve asked, following after Bucky as he started walking down the street. Bucky pretended, just for a moment, that they were friends and Steve was simply with him because he wanted to hang out.

“Because I don’t need your help.”

“But you do, and that’s okay.”

For some reason, that was it for him. Bucky turned around to face Steve and glared at him, “I do not need your help. I don’t need anybody’s help. I’m doing just fine on my own, I never needed your help.” Bucky took a step forward and tilted his head, the glare still strong, “Why do you want to help me so bad anyway? Am I some sort of charity case for you?”

Steve stopped in his track and looked at Bucky with a stunned expression, “I’m.. No, I don’t see you like that at all. I just want to help… You deserve to be helped.”

Bucky felt his heart lurch in his chest, and he let out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t be mad at a face like that. A face was so honestly hurt and earnest. Instead he turned around on his heels and started walking again, “Go home, Steve.” Bucky repeated.

“Let me take you home. You’re limping and putting more strain on your ankle will never let it heal.” Steve said behind him. Bucky groaned and thought silently to himself for a moment. Maybe if Steve saw who he was, the type of person he was, he will leave him alone. Instead of following him like a lost puppy.

“Fine.”

x

Steve’s truck was just as spotless as it was last time and Bucky felt even more uncomfortable in it now than he did before. He felt as thought the dirt from his his pants would stain the plush soft leather. Or he was making it all smell like bad body odor. But he swallowed those feelings down, wiping his sweaty palms on the top of his jeans. Steve was on the highway going towards his van, and Bucky felt fidgety in his seat. He kept chewing on his already short nails, his leg bouncing anxiously. When Bucky told Steve to get off the highway and pull off to the side as soon he got off. Steve looked around at the office buildings and abandoned apartment buildings, then at Bucky with a concerned crease in his brow.

“Where do I go?” He asked, as if he was actually unaware that he was homeless.

Bucky let out a spiteful laugh and looked at Steve, “This is it. I go under the bridge.”

Steve looked at Bucky and let go of the steering wheel. There was a tense moment of silence before Steve sucked in a breath, “So you’re..”

“Homeless, I don’t have a place I properly live, yes.” Bucky grabbed his backpack and got out of the car, “Thanks for the ride.” He mumbled lowly.

Instead Steve turned off his car and got out with him, “Wait, Bucky.”

Bucky growled and turned around to face Steve, “What? What do you want? You got what you wanted, you helped me. What more do you want?”

“Is it.. safe?” Steve asked, looking confused with his hunched over position and dumbstruck expression.

Bucky let out a bitter and sharp laugh, humorless and curt, “What do you think?”

There was another tense moment of silence between them before Bucky turned around to leave.

This time, Steve didn’t follow. Bucky will never admit to himself that he was disappointed.

x

Bucky was restless for the rest of the week, picturing the days he had spent with Steve. The first time, when they were at the park. He doesn’t count the store since he was working. But at the park, it was as if Steve didn’t know. And with had happened last time, perhaps he really didn’t. Maybe he did just assume the best in people no matter how they may look. Which is a trait Bucky knows doesn’t happen often.

Or, as the other corner of his mind protests, he’s just doing it for show.

Bucky tried not to think about that side of things too much. The next couple of days, he never saw Steve. Not while he was shopping or visiting his boss. She didn’t bring any of it up either, just continuing on with her days as if nothing happened. Bucky was starting to doubt it even happened.

Until it happened again.

Bucky left the store at a particularly late shift. The sky was dark but had an edge of brightness in the horizon, as if the sun was struggling to rise. Bucky yawned and was surprised by a timid ‘Hello’ behind him as he turned the corner to the front of the store. At first he jumped in his spot but relaxed as he turned to see who it was.

Steve Rogers. Tired looking, wearing thick exercise clothes. Bucky would be concerned that Steve could get sick, but he had a feeling that nothing could take him down. Especially not something like a cold. So he stared at him, blankly and concealed, “Steve. What are you doing, it’s nearly 5 AM.” Bucky squinted at him, turning to face him more but squared off his shoulders, “Are you stalking me?”

Steve slipped from his kicked puppy look to one of sheer panic, “No! I’m not! I..” Steve’s voice dwindled down to a whisper, turning his head to look away. He crossed his arms shyly and curled into himself, as if to make himself smaller, “I asked Natasha when you’d have your next day off. But she told me when you were getting off instead.”

Bucky crossed his own arms, but at a much more intimidating stance than Steve’s, “So you are stalking me.” He stated.

Steve groaned and rubbed at his face, “I’m sorry, I needed to see you again.”

Bucky froze at that, desperately trying to read Steve, “Why?”

Steve took in a sharp breath and exhaled roughly, “I don’t know.” It was as if all of his energy seeped out with the exhale, “I don’t know, Bucky. I want to apologize for how I acted but I don’t know how other than saying I’m sorry.”

Wait. Steve thought he was in the wrong here? Bucky mulled over that, turning the thought over and over again in his head. The silence between them stretched out, thick between them while the sentence lingered in the air. Neither of them were really that good at trying to communicate.

Bucky let his arms drop and shrugged, “You.. don’t really have anything to apologize for, Steve.” He mumbled out, shoving his hands in his pants pockets. A particularly chilly wind burst through them, reminding Bucky of the harsh December that’s to come in nearly a couple of days.

Steve saw him shiver, ever so minutely, and stood up straight, “Can I take you home? I promise I won’t say anything that will make you uncomfortable.”

Bucky flicked his eyes up from the pavement to look at him. His beautiful, pleading eyes that seemed to light up among the night. The sun was just barely starting it’s rise, the dusky sky getting brighter ever so slowly. Steve seemed to glow in the sun. Bucky felt his chest tighten.

“Alright.” There was no use in putting up a fight. Steve would just give him the most disappointed face and if he was being honest with himself, he wanted to go with him. Any excuse to be near him was good enough. There was just something about him that made Bucky to want to keep him close.

Steve smiled warmly and started walking toward his car.

It felt weird that Steve kept referring to the place he stayed in as his home, Bucky thought about that while they both walked to his truck. Home was a foreign concept to him, since he always thought of home as his parent’s house when he was a kid. When Becca was small and fragile, just a smudge of a baby wrapped in thin cool blankets. His mother would dote on her and his father would encourage her. Bucky only held her once when she was that little, when he turned five. But when Bucky got older and argued with his parents about everything, and for them to pass away just as he had gone off to live by himself, he forgot the word. Could home be where he was now, in his dilapidated van, probably owned by some hippie from the 70’s, covered in second hand sheets and windchimes?

Steve cleared his throat when they got to the truck, pulling Bucky back. He looked at his truck then moved to get inside, Steve going in after. When they both sat down, Steve glanced at Bucky, as if to read him, before turning the truck on and getting on their way.

When they pulled over at the bridge exit, Bucky moved to get out before Steve called out, “Do you need anything?”

Bucky wanted to be offended but when he saw the look of pure concern, he shook his head,
“No, Steve.”

Nothing he’d be willing to give, he was sure.

x

That routine continued since then, surprising Bucky completely. Steve would show up just before he would get off from his shift, tired looking and wearing stale athletic clothes. He would take him to the van, their silence shifting from awkward to comfortable. Before Bucky would leave, Steve would always ask if he needed anything. And every time, Bucky declined.

It was one particular car ride that changed things. It wasn’t necessarily for the worst, but Bucky felt as though it was a good kind of change. Steve had picked him up and things went on as usual.

Until Steve spoke, which wasn’t necessarily irregular but didn’t really happen unless it was to ask questions about how he was doing, “I had an interesting thing happen at work today.”

Bucky looked over at him and watched him, watched as he drove down the highway at a leisurely speed, “Oh?” He’d bite, why not.

Steve quickly looked at him, gluing his eyes right back to the road, “I work with a guy named Clint. He’s good at what he does and he’s one of my partners.”

Steve was purposely being vague, Bucky read that much. He didn’t blame him, Bucky was yet still a stranger to him.

“He has an adopted daughter, her name is Kate. She’s a great kid, just a little… rebellious. She asked Clint if she could go to a party one night, some college party. She’s finishing senior year of High School so Clint said no.” Steve grinned and leaned back in his seat, “Clint was surprised at how easy she took it and just said alright. That was about a week ago. Today, I check my email while at work and I see a chain from Clint. His work email, so I thought it was fine.

Well, I open the email and there is a photo attachment on it.”

Bucky’s eyes enlarge in size, a slew of possibilities “Uh huh..” He egged on, rapt in what he had to say.

Steve grinned and looked over at him quickly, “It was a picture of him. None of us really know each other out of work so nobody expected him to dress as a sexy police officer apparently two years ago. I knew him then!” Steve laughed out, “He had this ridiculous shirt, if you could even call it that. It stopped, right above his chest,” Steve mimicked the length, pressing his hand right on his collarbone, “Right here.”

Bucky grinned, facing him completely now and bit his lip, “What happened?”

Steve chuckled at that, “Our boss called in a meeting about keeping our passwords up to date and security issues. Turns out Clint’s daughter is a lot more skilled at computer programming than Clint had gotten the impression on. She hacked into his email account and sent the picture from his laptop. She had to come in and apologize to our boss. Who, mind you, is huge. He’s about six foot two, intimidating guy with a freaking eyepatch.”

Bucky chuckles a little at that and Steve catches him, continuing on enthusiastically, “So she comes in, shaking like a leaf. She’s a pretty thin girl, short too. So he just kinda towered over her. And then she said, so confidently I didn’t even think she said it,
‘Sorry for emailing you all pictures of Sexy Officer Mr. Clint, it was very unprofessional. No matter how funny it is to caption, “Put your hands up in the name of sexy love.” it was inappropriate and I will advice to change my behavior, no matter how amused I was at the time.”’

Bucky let out another chuckle, this time a bit hardier and he shook his head.

“Clint looked like his eyes were gonna bug out of his skull. My boss just stared at her, complete stone faced. Then he turned to Clint and just told him that he was excused, turned around and left! My co-workers called him Mr. Sexy Officer Clint for the rest of the day, it was horrible!”

Bucky laughed and turned back to look at the road, the air suddenly electric with energy between them, “She sounds like a riot.”

Steve laughed and nodded, relaxing in his seat, “She’s great. I’ve only seen her a few times before at work parties but each time she was hilarious. A lot of character.”

By the time the story had come to a close, Steve was pulling off on his exit. Bucky, unlike usual as well, lingered a little before leaving. He got out of the truck and fiddle with the door handle before closing it,
“..Thank you, Steve.”

Steve smiled back at him and Bucky saw the sun, despite it barely even blooming from the skyline yet.

x

Each ride went from quiet and long to lively and short. Winter turned to Spring and Bucky had never smiled as much as he has while with Steve. They’ve kept seeing each other to free rides to the van or the store, each time Bucky felt like he learned more and more about Steve. Like how he liked to laugh, constantly tossing his head back in deep bellied laughter, carefree smiles and ridiculous jokes. Bucky couldn’t help laugh along with him when he said his lame jokes, just happy to see Steve starting to smile so much around him. It was as if any anxiety he had before then that was holding him back from opening up was let go. Bucky felt envious at how easy he made that seem, letting go like that. He still felt himself clam up and quiet down at the mention of him being homeless or anything about his own past. But Steve was more than comfortable to talk for the both of them.

Than he saw how compassionate he was, constantly thinking of others before himself. He showed off that attribute when he helped a person who was nearly completely blind around the store one Friday. It seemed as if they were good friends, Steve guiding him helpfully while they shopped. The guy he was possibly only a year or two younger than Steve, with chestnut brown hair and a shy smile. Their laughter could have been heard from the other side of the store, and Bucky smiled along with them. When they separated paths at the store front, Steve hugged him briskly before saying his goodbyes. Then, as if he knew that Bucky had been watching the entire time, turned directly towards him with the same warm smile on his face.

Lastly, but not the least important, just how adorable Steve Rogers was. Sometimes, he’d be so sleepy that his eyes would be droopy with exhaustion. But unlike Bucky, where he just looks like a wet towel when he’s that tired, Steve just looked down right cute. Like Bucky just wanted to wrap him up and blankets and pet his hair until he fell asleep, maybe on his lap. And that always frightened him. There was no way that Bucky could have that, no matter how friendly Steve was. Cause that’s exactly what they were, friends. Friends who seem to be okay with keeping things simple and straight to the point between them.

But it was one day, while walking down the hill to his van, that Bucky felt a pang of guilt. All this time, Steve is opening up to him. He’s showing him things about himself that he’s sure are things you have to learn through being with him more than they had been. And Bucky is still just the homeless guy who lived under a bridge.

Maybe… Just maybe, Bucky can take a risk. Just this once.

x

When they stopped at the corner of the exit on a warm April night, the sun still asleep in the dark clouds, Bucky took his chance. He sucked in a deep breath and looked down at his lap, where his fingers were toying with a strap from his backpack,
“Do… you…” Bucky started, anxious in his seat. Steve was quiet next to him but didn’t seem at all like he was judging him for his own awkwardness, “Do you wanna see? Where I stay?” Bucky rushed out, shy and turning red in his seat.

Steve let out a soft breath next to him and spoke out airly, “Yeah.”

Bucky licked his lips quickly, still not facing him, instead looking out the window, “It’s nothing glamorous. I… don’t have a lot.”

Steve nodded, and Bucky only knew cause he saw his reflection in the side view mirror, “That’s alright, Buck.”

Bucky started to get out of the car, slow and obviously stalling. His heart felt as though it was going to race through his chest, but Bucky persisted. As he turned to lead Steve down the hill, he stopped half way and turned to look at him,
“It’s fine if you don’t want to, it’s really not nice, it’s what I’ve just managed to bring together.”

Steve smiled reassuringly, resting a thickly comforting hand on his shoulder. The contact felt warm and Bucky was desperate for more, “It’s alright.”

Bucky chewed at his lip while he looked at Steve’s handsome face. Then he nodded and continued on his way.

Just as he had left it, his van sat leaning against the pillar of the bridge. Bucky stopped infront of it and fidgeted with his fingers before sliding open the door.

The night before, he had spruced it up as much as he could. He folded his clothes in the back corner and tried to clean his sheets as much as he could. He even bought a small dollar air freshener, that pulled open to show a comically red flower scented jelly inside. It made the whole van smell like a garden of flowers, like the beautiful patches that grew in front of fancy condo buildings.

Steve looked at it and Bucky kept his head tilted down, looking at the gravel under their feet.

“This is where you sleep?” Steve asked gently, taking a step forward and really looking inside. Bucky swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You did all this?” Steve asked in wonder, kneeling against the edge of the entrance to look around. The ruby red sheets gave the inside a warm glow in the dusk light, inviting and comfortable looking. Bucky nodded again. How badly he wanted to hide under those sheets and blankets, away from the fear of rejection.

“This is amazing, Buck. This is beautiful.”

Out of all the things Steve could have said, that’s the last thing that Bucky expected. Actually, he didn’t even suspect such a thing to be said. His head snapped to look at Steve, at how his head was turned up to look at the stars painted ontop,
“Did you paint that?”

Bucky voice croaked at first, as if he hadn’t spoken in months, “No, I found it that way.” He started, fidgeting again with his straps, “I took out the seats and cleaned the rest of it. Took me a while, but I got it good enough. I got the sheets and blankets throughout… the years.” He eluded, not really wanting to mention just how long he’s been homeless.

Steve wowed in wonder, looking back at Bucky, “Can I… go in?”

Bucky looked at him and shrugged, taking off his pack to lean it against the van. He crawled inside, closer to the driver’s seat, and let Steve follow. The door was left open, bringing in a nice clear draft. Steve had to hunch a little to sit comfortably but didn’t look disturbed by it,
“You’re so amazing, Bucky.”

Bucky froze and stared back at him, rendered speechless at his sincerity.

“Really, you are. This is amazing. It feels like I’m sitting in your room or something. Like really home.” Steve gushed, folding his legs to get comfortable.

It was then that a nosey feline made her own appearance. She sauntered down the hill, her short stubby tail moving back and forth as she walked. She let out a croak of a meow and earned both of their attention. Steve gasped and reached out a hand for her,
“This is the cat you were talking about!”

Bucky had to think all the way back to that day, when he met Steve’s cat. He smiled and nodded, leaning back against the back of the driver’s seat, “Yeah, she’s alright.”

The cat jumped into the van and looked at Steve inquisitively, as if trying to decide if he really was worth her time. Bucky clicked his tongue and gestured at him, “Jeez, he’s not going to bite you, don’t be antisocial.”

Steve chuckled and the cat blinked at Bucky. Instead of choosing to go into his arms, she settled between them, a round ball of orange fur in a sea of red blankets.

Steve smiled and shrugged, looking back at Bucky.

“Thank you for showing me this, Bucky.”

Bucky bit his lip and smiled shyly, nodding,
“Yeah…” He added dumbly.

They shared a moment of silence between each other, only the sound of the cat’s soft snores ringing through the air. Steve looked at the sun rising at the windshield, which was dusty but perfectly facing the sunrise,
“Oh wow.”

Bucky turned in his spot to look at the sun, unaware of just how clear it looked from here.

Steve was careful, slow and quiet. Bucky didn’t turn, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Steve noiselessly moved to sit next to him, along the passenger sit across. Bucky looked at Steve from the corner of his eye and saw he wasn’t looking at the sun anymore.

Bucky bit his lip and looked down at the smattering of sheets.

The moment that the same drama show talked about about when he was a kid. The moment where everything felt fuzzy around the edges and there would be some kind of romantic acoustic playing in the background. There was a moment of panic, where Bucky tried to find out how this was going to get ruined, how their bubble of bliss was about to get popped. But instead, Steve reached for his hand. It was soft and gentle, and Bucky looked up at him. His smile was welcoming and cozy, like a slow Sunday morning. Bucky smiled back and noticed that they were leaning close.

Steve clearly, though, had more courage than Bucky ever will. Cause while Bucky stopped inching forward, Steve continued. Until Bucky could nearly count the eyelashes that lined his beautiful eyes. Until all of his freckles were visible, yet another thing that Bucky learned about him. Close enough to see the small creases in his plump pink lips, which were parted so slightly as he breathed. Bucky looked back up to his eyes and was greeted with a questioning look. Steve mumbled out, still leaning forward but slower,
“Tell me to stop, I will.”

Bucky thought about it. He really did. He thought about how he wasn’t worthy, how he was dirty and poor. How Steve was beautiful and vibrant. How whatever was going to happen was going to either be the best or worst thing to happen in his life. But for once, just this once, with Steve’s comforting voice and warmth, Bucky wanted this. He has never wanted anything so badly as this, as being welcomed. So he shook his head slowly and remained silent, Steve getting the last needed courage to close the gap between them.

The kiss was soft and smooth like honey, melting on Bucky’s tongue. Steve was warm, so impossibly warm. He felt the heat radiating from him in waves, making Bucky just inch forward a little. He felt Steve smile and cup his cheek with his hand.

It was incredible. It was amazing, wonderful, everything Bucky could think of. It was the best feeling he’s had in a long time. And when Steve pulled away, slow and lazy, Bucky didn’t feel the panic he thought he’d feel. He just felt content, opening his eyes to see Steve looking back at him with adoration. The sun was bright and red, filling his van with a romantic red hues, casting Steve in a heavenly glow.

It felt like home.

x

Steve left soon after, with the sun bright in the sky. He looked so tired, Bucky almost tried to convince him to stay. But seeing and staying were two different experiences. No matter how badly he wanted Steve to stay. Just before he left though, Steve leaned forward for another chaste and close lipped kiss. It was cute, impossibly so.

Bucky held onto that memory while it rained all through April, thought about Steve’s lips and smile. How his hands felt in his own and how comfortable they were with each other. It felt as though Bucky was suspended in air, held up by feathers and clouds. His boss, who has now started insisting that she call him Natasha, remarked on how happy he looked. She faced him with knowing smirks and grins, all suspicions of her and Steve being closer than they let on confirming. There was no way she’d know any other way since Bucky was hesitant to talk about Steve even with just his cat, let alone his boss.

It felt great. To be filled with so much bliss. And each time Bucky saw Steve afterward, he was just as kind and made him feel so at home with himself. It was wonderful.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Chapter Text

No matter who they are, at some point everyone will struggle in their life. There will be a moment where a person thinks, this is the hardest it’s going to get. This is the lowest low that they could have gotten. Everyone will look up and will see a sign, “Welcome to Rock Bottom!” With neon lights, flashing in their face. But Rock Bottom only has to be a pit stop back to great things, as long as that person tries. It could take doing something they never knew they’d try to do or forcing themselves to face a far, but in the end, the hard times will pass, just like a storm.

x

Bucky remembered the exact moment when Bucky got to eat Steve’s home cooking for the first time. It actually brought tears to his eyes.

Bucky had just gotten off of a particularly grueling shift, where he had to carry more heavy boxes than he could count from back to their aisles. Sorting them all took hours and it was the most repetitive work that Bucky has had to do in months. He actually had to work late, barely finished with what he was tasked for that day. Bucky didn’t realize just how long he had been working until Steve suddenly showed up in the aisle he was in, hands stuffed into his pockets and a friendly smile on his face,
“Working late?” He asked.

Bucky smiled apologetically and nodded, “Sorry. You can go if you want, I’m probably going to be here for another half hour or so.” He explained.

Steve looked around and shrugged a little, “Can I hang out?”

Bucky still couldn’t believe that Steve even wanted to be near him to begin with. That will take a while to get used to. So he nodded dazedly and got back to work.

“So, I have another story for you..”

And it went on as how it usually would when they were together, Steve telling Bucky about his job or random jokes. He sat on top of milk crates while Bucky worked, even sometimes taking a few of the product to put away while he talked. It made the time go by much faster, along with his help. By the end of it, the sun was already up in the sky, turning the blue hues into hazy orange and pink. Steve and Bucky left together, bumping shoulders with each other shyly. When they got into Steve’s truck, there was a moment where Steve sat silent in his seat. Bucky averted his attention over to him with a questioning look.

Steve took in a breath and looked back at him,
“Are you hungry? When that sale on eggs was going on, I may have bought too much and I kind of want to use them up before they go bad…”

Bucky didn’t realize he had tensed up at Steve’s initial silence, immediately assuming the worst, so he loosened up and smiled. The idea of getting to eat food that was still warm AND made by Steve was glorious. An opportunity he would never pass down. So he nodded and leaned back in his seat,
“Sure, but only if I can cuddle with your cat.” Bucky hummed out, earning a laugh from Steve.

“If that’s what it takes for you to come over, cuddle all you want.”

Bucky felt the butterflies flutter in his stomach invitingly from that.

Steve’s house was just as beautiful this time as it was before. Immediately when they walked in, Bucky heard a loud and welcoming meow. He grinned and looked around for the source. Surprisingly, he didn’t search for long. Mookie hopped down the stairs and trotted straight up to them both. When she noticed Bucky though, she stopped and stared at him warily.

“Hey girlie, you know Bucky.” Steve reminded her, kneeling down to pet her. At first she looked spooked by him, her fur standing up curiously. But after coming over to sniff at Bucky’s shoes, she relented. Bucky was also allowed to kneel down to pet her. This time she was wearing a soft powder blue ribbon around her neck, tied into a perfectly symmetrical bow.

“She got bigger…” Bucky commented, amazed at how she seemed to double in size since he last saw her, all those months ago.

Steve got up and took off his sweater while walking to the kitchen. Mookie seemed to trust Bucky enough to be lifted by him, all while continuously petting her tenderly. Now she seemed to dangle a little out of his palm unlike before, where she could sit comfortably in his hand. But she was still perfect, with her big bright blue eyes and soft grey fur. She remained exceptionally smaller than his Landlord cat but she still had a lot of growing to do whereas the orange tabby was well past the point of getting bigger.

“Yeah, she eats enough for a whole litter of cats. She’s a little pig.” Steve joked, opening the fridge to grab ingredients for breakfast.

Bucky realized he should probably offer to assist in breakfast and put Mookie down, despite her protests, “Can I help? I can… stir? The eggs?” It had been so long since he’s cooked, he’s afraid of even touching the pan. Thankfully Steve just laughed and shook his head, grabbing bowls to crack the eggs into.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got breakfast down pact. Just entertain Mook, she’ll try jumping onto the counters and get in my way.”

Bucky was more than pleased with this job assignment, since he was not joking about getting to play with her, and immediately got down to the floor with his legs crossed to tease and play with the kitten.

She had a lot more energy this time than last, jumping and skidding around on the floor to chase fluffy toys or trying to bite at Bucky’s fingers. Steve and him chatted idly while they both worked, both with very important tasks at hand. Bucky eventually started to smell the eggs cook along with other kind of goodies, his stomach curling and grumbling anxiously. It had been so long since he’s had a hot meal like this and Bucky couldn’t be more excited.

When Steve had finished cooking and set up the island counters, he came up to Bucky to find him sprawled across the floor with the kitten trying to eat his long hair, hunkered down on his chest. Bucky was gently and playfully tugging at her tail, making her jump back and forth to lick at his hair then chew his fingers. Before Bucky could stop it, he heard a camera shutter from Steve’s direction. His head snapped to squint over at him mock angrily, looking at Steve chuckle at the picture on his phone. Bucky gently took Mookie from his chest and stood up, looking over Steve’s hand at the picture.

It didn’t even look like him. There was a calm and cool smile on his face, looking down at the bundle of fur in front of him. His jaw was a lot more stubbly than he thought, and he still looked a little thinner than he’d like to be but there was still a resemblance of himself. The thing that threw him off the most was just how content he looked, laying across the floor with a kitten on his chest. Mookie was biting as his hair, so she was facing him in this shot and they seemed to be looking back at each other.

Bucky really liked that picture. He wished he had a phone so he could have that picture with him but it’s enough to get to see it now. Steve must have seen him smiling at it since he grabbed on his free hand with his own, as if trying getting his attention. Bucky looked up from the picture to Steve, who was smiling back at him. Bucky couldn’t stop himself, not then with that look on his face. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, a kiss added to their small collection of memories. Bucky hasn’t gotten the chance to kiss Steve much, only a few times after their first one but every time was spectacular. And it was never anything too heavy, just soft pecks or the quick swipe of a tongue. Nothing beyond that, but Bucky, either way, held on to each memory with a death grip.

Steve smiled into the kiss and squeezed his hand a little. The only reason they broke apart was because of Mookie scratching at Bucky’s hand. Bucky hissed in pain and switched hands with the cat before letting her down. Steve laughed and took his hand to look at the scratches, tucking his phone away in his pocket,
“Little troublemaker. You alright?”

Bucky nodded and watched Steve,
“Yeah.” He eyed the food set up on the counter behind them, “Food time?”

Steve grinned and let go of his hand, turning around to get to the food,
“Yeah, come sit down.”

Which lead to this moment, where Bucky stuffed perfectly fluffy eggs into his mouth, creamy and buttery smooth, with chunks of bacon. He washed it down with fresh and ice cold orange juice, groaning to himself as quietly as he could,
“This is amazing, Steve.” He mumbled out, still chewing on his forkful.

Steve ate just as eagerly as he did, though his body was turned slightly to face him,
“Yeah?”

Bucky chuckled and looked over at him quickly before getting back to his food, “To be fair, I haven’t eaten actual eggs in months.” Maybe even years, but he didn’t want to mention that. No reason to dampen the electric mood around them.

If Steve suspected anything otherwise, he didn’t show tells of knowing. He just smiled and shoveled his own forkful into his mouth,
“There’s more if you want it.”

Bucky might have actually cried in that moment.

It was all so much. Steve was perfect. He was kind, generous, playful… There’s no way this could be real. There’s no way that Bucky was sitting here, in a literal million dollar home, eating the best eggs he’s ever had all while sitting next to the most perfect human being on the planet. This either had to be some mad hallucination or he’s actually living in an alternate reality unlike his own where things were horrible and lonely.

When Steve saw he started to cry, he immediately stopped eating and turned more toward Bucky,
“Buck, are you alright?” His voice was laced with concern, strong and solid.

The best part, though, was that he was honestly able to answer,

“Yeah.”

x

After eating enough breakfast foods to feed an entire nation, Bucky sprawled across Steve’s plush couch to digest. Mookie had also eaten while they did, Steve giving her a mix of the foods she could eat from their own bowls of fruit or meat. It was cute, watching the still tiny cat eat on fresh slices of strawberries while Steve’s big hand pet her back. But now she was napping, resting after a filling meal on the small of Bucky’s back. The only bad thing about this situation was that now he’d never be able to get up,

Steve loaded their dishes up in the dishwasher and came around to lean against the back of the couch, looking over at them,
“She’ll never move.”

Bucky smiled at that, shrugging carelessly,
“Guess that’s your problem.”

Steve smiled and reached over to tuck away a strand of Bucky’s hair from his eyes. Bucky blushed, literally blushed, just from how Steve was looking at him. Like he hung the sun in the sky. As if he belonged right there, laying across his couch with his cat curled on his back, comfortable with him.

Bucky folded his arms under his head and looked at the softly cracked leather that he was facing.

“Stay the night?” Steve asked, softly and in an airy whisper.

Bucky looked at him. Really analyzed him.

Today was already one of the best he’s had in years, the idea of getting to cap it off with getting to sleep with Steve would be perfect.

That is, literally sleeping. God, Bucky hoped he meant literal sleeping.

That was when he started to panic a little, wondering if that was supposed to mean something other than the something he was thinking about. Also where would he be… “sleeping”?

Steve must have sensed his hesitance since he straightened up his back a little, pulling his hand away from Bucky, “Or not. That’s fine. I understand if you wanna go back home.”

That’s right. His van. His rusty, moldy, and smelly van. With no beautiful chef’s kitchen or an actual toilet. Bucky sighed and tried to get up as softly as he could, as to not wake the kitten but instantly, she jumped from his back. Her claws from her jumping stung a little bit that was fine.

Bucky sat up with his legs crossed on the couch and shrugged, “I don’t know…” To everything. He didn’t know what to do at all. He wanted to stay, to get to curl on the comfy couch and snuggle with blankets or real fluffy pillows. But then, he should go back to the van. There’s only so much kindness someone can give away in a day. He didn’t want to impose on Steve. No matter how bad he wanted it.

Steve bit his lip and leaned back forward, now their faces at level with each other, “Can I put in my own opinion?” He asked.

Bucky thought about it for a moment, trying to decide if this was something he wanted to hear or not. In the end he decided on something close to, ‘Fuck it.’
“Yeah.”

Steve smiled brightly and leaned closer, his own lips just hovering over his own,
“I think you should stay. Sleep in my bed with me, it’s big.”

It felt as though Steve could read him like a book. He felt his face get hot and he was tempted to close those centimeters between them to feel those amazing lips on his own.

“Is that a promise?” Bucky couldn’t help but quip back with, looking from Steve’s pink lips to his eyes. Instantly, Steve threw his head back in a loud laugh, surprising Mookie as she was cleaning her paws near by.

“Oh, Buck, that was bad.” Steve teased.

“You set yourself up for it though.” Bucky replied, stepping off of the couch and stretching languidly, “But you’ve convinced me.”

Even though he was quite sure that he was going to vomit from how nervous he was, he let Steve lead him upstairs to his room. He counted at least three other rooms, which would make this a four bedroom house. In New York, that was harder to come by than it sounded. On top of that, he wasn’t kidding when he said his bed was big. It was nearly the size of his van. With more pillows than Bucky would ever know what to do with. He stopped at the doorway and stared at it, turning his attention to Steve,
“Steve, you didn’t tell me it was a boat.”

Steve laughed and put his hand around Bucky’s hips to guide him further inside,
“Another house warming gift.”

Bucky scoffed in disbelief, looking over at Steve,
“I need your friends, Steve.”

Steve started going through his clothes, pulling two sets of clothes, and casually said over his shoulder.
“I’ll introduce you.”

Bucky froze at that. He looked at Steve and fidgeted for a second, then turning away to look at the rest of his room,
“Maybe...”

The idea of meeting Steve’s friends terrified him. Steve may be able to deal with Bucky being homeless but god knows what his friends would think. They’d probably try to convince him to leave Bucky, to stop being friends with him and to stop whatever romantic relationship they had started. They’d be doing Bucky’s job of showing him how much of a waste of time he was. After that, it was quiet for a little while, Bucky now looking out the wide window into the city skyline. His room was just as sleek and contemporary looking as the rest of the house, with hushed tones of blue and grey. There was polished steel picture frames and all black dressers. It was the room of a bachelor, in every way.

Bucky suddenly felt sweaty under his paper thin cotton tee-shirt. This place was incredible. If Bucky remembered the prices from when he was doing house hunting before college, this kind of place would have costed millions of dollars. He didn’t even know how many bathrooms it had. And with this type of view, it’d especially have quite a bill on it.

That meant that Steve is a fucking millionaire, Bucky thought to himself. He swallowed noisily and looked around, a sudden urge to bolt out of there. But just as Bucky was planning his escape, he felt thick and strong arms around his waist. They were warm and followed by an equally warm chest pressed against his back. It was a tender and compassionate embrace. Bucky melted in Steve’s hold, leaning back against him welcomingly. How could he leave when this was happening?

“I know it’s a lot, I’m sorry. I can sleep in the living room if you’d like. Whatever you want.” Steve hummed next to his ear. Despite how close they were, Bucky felt no pressure to take this embrace any further than where it was. Which was an incredible feeling. He smiled and shook his head. They’d been floating around at not really dating but kind of dating for so long that this surge of affection has been the most reassuring thing to happen to him.

Bucky turned in his arms, wrapping his own arms around his waist in return.
“It’s fine. Just…” He couldn’t take the nagging feeling anymore, “We’re just going to… sleep… right?” Bucky asked shyly, not really looking at Steve but at the bed behind them.

Steve tensed up slightly in Bucky’s arms then he adamantly shook his head, earning Bucky’s attention again,
“No, Bucky, nothing neither of us are ready for…” Steve commented, making Bucky briefly come up with some questions but pushed them away for another time. Either way, it was still relieving, knowing they were both on the same page.

So Steve lead him to the bed, where there were clothes tossed on top. Steve grabbed a shirt and pajama pants, handing them to Bucky,
“These should fit you, I think.. Sorry if they’re big, they’re the smallest I have…”

Bucky snorted and nodded, grabbing the pile of clothing. It was definitely going to be big on him, but they felt soft and when he slid them on while in the en suite bathroom, it smelled amazing. Bucky tried not to think about it. When he looked back at himself in the bathroom mirror, he once again was faced with a person he barely even knew. It wasn’t often that he got a chance to look at his reflection, and each time he’s met with disappointment. Bucky just looked… tired. Reminiscent to the recognition from before, Bucky scratched through his long stubble. He never let it get this long while he was in college. Maybe a light five o’ clock shadow but nothing this crazy. He can’t recall the last time he had shaved, now that he was really thinking about it. His cheeks also looked sunken in and his skin was slightly ashy looking. These were all attributes that Bucky forgot happened to him while living without the luxuries of mirrors or fresh foods. Then there was Steve’s clothes. The shirt was plush and felt like silk against his rough skin. There weren’t any holes or loose threads, relatively new looking compared to what Bucky owned. Everything about Steve was new compared to Bucky, it seemed. Hastily, he turned on the faucet of the stainless steel sink to rinse off his face. The water come off dark, a reminder of just how dirty he was. After turning off the faucet and patting his face with a thick hand towel, Bucky sucked in a much needed breath then left the bathroom.

When he came back, Steve was taking a few of the pillows off from the bed. Bucky froze,
“What are you doing?”

Steve blinked at him and then looked at the pillows he was removing, “Taking off the pillows?”

Bucky stood still and looked between the two, pillow-in-hand and Steve. Bucky’s face twisted to an equally confused expression,
“Why?”

Steve was silent, as if he needed a second to process the question. Maybe he did, maybe he really didn’t know why he was taking the pillows off the bed.
“Cause it’s… too much?”

Bucky’s eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline, shocked and slightly offended, “What do you mean? Why do you have them then?”

Bucky rushed forward and took the pillows, tossing them back onto the bed, “If you have these many pillows, we are damn well using all of them.”

Bucky tested the softness of a few of them, determinedly ignoring the baffled look he knew Steve was giving him. Just because Steve knew how to read him doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to read Steve back.

He found a pillow that seemed to pass whatever test he was doing and looked up at Steve with concentrated blankness,
“Which side do you sleep on?”

Steve looked over his face then cracked a bright smile, chuckling to himself and gesturing to the side closest to him, “On the left side…”

Bucky nodded and went to the right side, getting himself eagerly comfortable under the sheets. Steve looked at him curiously before slipping in the bed with him after turning out the lights.

With everything dark and cozy around them, Bucky took the time to appreciate the room in its most comforting state. The thing that caught his attention the most, however, were Steve’s curtains. They were thick enough to block out most of the sunlight, seeing as how it was fairly late in the morning by now. For a while, they just looked at each other, the curious light of the sun seeping in through densely blue curtains. The room was cast in a cool and dark blue hue, making everything settle and relax them both. When the clouds would part for the quick few seconds, the bright yellow rays would intermingle with the blue and parades of lazuli, cyan, and emerald would show off on the white painted walls. Steve looked as if he were from a painting, with how the colors reacted with his usually golden pale skin.

“These curtains are amazing.” Bucky finally whispered between them, voicing his exact thoughts just then, as he observed the colour show. Steve breathed out a gentle laugh, his hands nervously resting on Bucky’s hip. He felt them shaking, making Bucky give his attention back to him, “Are you okay?”

Steve let out another laugh, this time much more tense before nodding, “I’m.. a little nervous.”

Bucky’s brow stitched together in confusion, scooting forward to get closer to him, “Why?”

Steve was silent for a moment before wrapping his arm fully around his waist. He pulled him forward so that they were pressed closest together than they had ever been,
“Cause I really like you, Bucky…”

Bucky was silent, watching Steve carefully. His eyes were earnest and looked downright frightened. As if Bucky were to reject him, right now. That couldn’t be any more of a dumb idea. So to calm Steve’s nerves, Bucky leaned closer and kissed Steve’s cheek. When he looked back and saw he still looked nervous, he kissed his brow. And yet, when he looked again, Steve was still nervous. Though now, he didn’t look as tightly pinched. So he thought, another would be needed and laid a kiss on the tip of his nose. When Steve relaxed into the pillow next to him, he kissed his lips. Soft and gentle, just like he had first kissed him. Giving him the much needed reassurance that Bucky was sure he must know by now,

He liked him too.

x

To say that this was the best Bucky’s life has been since he was a kid would be a complete understatement. Their routine had shifted from Steve taking him to the van to taking him back to his house. They would eat a late breakfast with each other, sometimes both sitting around with Mookie and playing or exchanging stories on the couch. Bucky would stay the night if he worked the next day so that Steve could take him to work. On days where he didn’t work, he would go back to the van and try desperately to sleep but couldn’t. Not when he’s had a taste of what he could have. But it made the times when he was Steve an absolute blessing.

But just as Bucky was getting used to the overabundance of Steve Rogers in his life, just as he was starting to really appreciate Steve always being there, he was gone.

Bucky’s shift was coming to close, tired and aching, when he realized that Steve hadn’t come inside yet. He thought, maybe, he was waiting for him outside again. Which, by now, was a little unusual but dismissed it easily. But when he walked out of the market, there was no Steve. Bucky lingered and looked around for a while but alas, he didn’t show up. Bucky huffed out a disappointed sigh but started his trek back home. There was no reason that Steve was obligated to meet with him after nearly every shift so it was fine. Bucky didn’t lose sleep over it. Then a day turned into two, where Bucky didn’t see Steve. That was fine, things happen, he told himself. He was sure by the end of the week, nearly a few days away, that Steve would turn up again.

But then, it turned into two days. Then four.

Then Bucky stopped counting after two weeks.

Who was he to think he could have it all? That he could have the amazing man, the beautiful house, the loveable kitten?

Natasha wouldn’t say anything. Not that he’d ask anyway. That was unprofessional and the last thing he needed was to lose his job. She definitely knew something though, with how she would give him sympathetic looks while he trudged through the store. But Bucky didn’t remark on it and neither did she, just the mutual respect for the professionalism towards each other speaking loud enough for them.

So he had no choice but to continue on. To keep working, to walk to his van, and to take what he can get.

What he got was a van that was sweltering hot in the late Spring. Bucky was sweating as he laid on top of layers of sheets. It was so hot, that his Landlord Cat would follow the shade that the van casted, grouchy and snappy when Bucky tried to pet her. Bucky just let it happen. He deserved it, he was sure, that the only friend he had that didn’t ignore him would try biting his fingers off.

Bucky felt the sun shine for days. Hot and thick in the sky, and he’d linger around parks for the water fountains. He’d spend his nights in the van, all the windows and doors open to let in any air that dared blow. Then one day, it got cloudy. So impossibly cloudy that Bucky had to turn on a flashlight in his van.

Then the rain started.

Bucky almost danced in the rain when it first came down. It rained so hard, it nearly felt like little pebbles hitting his skin. But it was the best rain that could ever happen. A draft came through under the bridge, all of the rain wind blowing through refreshingly.

It was the best thing that could happen right now. If it had been just a few months ago, Bucky would be ecstatic about the new weather development.

And yet, all he could think about was Steve. How he wished he were there.

Instead of dwelling, he left for work. When he arrived, it was still raining. He was a little wet, but his old windbreaker seemed to hold off fine. He tried to wring out the water from his long hair but gave up after a while and started working. He heard the rain still pounding against the roof and windows all day while he worked. Bucky didn’t mind it. It was the end of April, going into May. It was bound to rain, like the old saying went. The day went on as lifeless and drab as the one before. Bucky had unearthed his walkman from his pile of clothes to distract himself from his thoughts and was listening to an old mixtape he had found in the trash titled, “Summer Love ‘66.’

When Bucky woke up the next day in his van, he noticed that it was still drizzling. Water was starting to pool around him, making deep puddles and reservoirs in some places. Before Bucky got worried, he thought about just how hot it was the week before and shrugged it off. It was just a stubborn storm. Bucky didn’t care about it, much like how he didn’t care about a lot of things these days. That’s just how life goes for him. A rollercoaster ride of highs and lows. And now, it was time for the low.

It was when he saw him again that his world suddenly stopped. It was when he approached his van after a long walk home, drenched from head to toe. It was just starting to get bright out, at least as bright as it could be with the thick clouds in the sky. It's been raining off and on for nearly a week now, overstaying it's welcome completely. But somehow, Steve didn't look wet. Just tired, exceptionally so. There were dark purple bags under his eyes and he was sporting a nearly complete beard. Bucky fucking loved it, how Steve looked like he could carry him away in his tree trunk arms. But he, instead of running towards him, briskly walked past him to the van doors.

“Bucky…” Steve sounded terribly desperate, husky and gravelly from no use. Bucky froze. It sounded so… sad.

Bucky straightened and turned to look at him blankly, “What?”

Steve looked as if he were in pain, his eyes flicking in every direction. Bucky exhaled sharply and started putting his stuff away in the van.

“Please come with me.” Steve rushed out, making Bucky chuckle and shake his head.

“Why should I do that?” Bucky said sharply, desperately trying not to cry. All he could think about were the times he’s already cried thinking Steve abandoned him. That he turned out being nothing but a regret. Or a joke, to see how high he could get someone’s hopes before letting go. Instead, he decided to hold onto whatever dignity he had left and stood his ground.

Except Steve willingly submitted, head tilted down with a sad cast,
“Please just give me a chance to explain.”

Bucky turned around completely to face him, instead of looking at his reflection on the window, “Fine. Why did you leave?”

Steve looked up, a struggling expression on his face. Bucky rose a questioning brow but Steve just let out a frustrated sigh,
“I… can't answer that exactly...”

Bucky did a double take. Bucky crossed his arms across his chest,
“What do you mean?” He asked grumpily.

Steve locked eyes with him and with all the seriousness in the world, muttered out, “Legally. I cannot tell you because of legal reasons.”

Bucky stared at him, dissecting the sentence a hundred times over. “What did you do?” he whispered out, immediately assuming the worst.

“I didn't break the law, if that's what you're thinking,” Bucky let out a sigh in relief he didn't realize he was holding, “I mean I am legally bound by the government not to tell you ‘cause it’s confidential.”

And if Steve thought that wouldn’t stump Bucky even more, he had a lot higher expectations than Bucky thought.

“What do you mean it's confidential?” Then it clicked, why he knows Natasha. Why he has the oddest hours known to man. Why he was always on top form. Steve was a government guy, possibly even with the military. Bucky gasped, “Do you mean..”

Steve groaned and nodded, “Yes.”

Bucky’s immediate reaction was to run. Run as far as he could with the insane idea that Steve was about to arrest him for living under the bridge. The only taxes he pays are from his paycheck. The government was bound to catch on and put him in some kind of jail system. It's happened hundreds of times before to people like him, it was only a matter of time.

Steve must have seen immediate look of panic on his face, since he raised up his hands and took a step back, “Not that type of government official.”

Bucky didn't relax just yet, “Then what are you doing here?”

“I'm asking you… To come back to my place for a little while. At least until the hurricane passes.”

Bucky froze. He completely stopped all brain functions. Hurricane? Here? Bucky tried to think about how he missed that. It had been raining none stop and the wind had just kept picking up, but a hurricane? “Hu… Hurricane?” Bucky gulped.

It was Steve’s turn to look confused, “You… Didn't know?”

Bucky shook his head slowly. They shared a look while Bucky thought. Where would he go otherwise? The shelters would surely be packed, probably already are from how much it has already rained. But he was mad at Steve. Even though he looks incredibly hurt from leaving Bucky behind, it still happened. It hurt like nothing he's felt in years. But Bucky had no other choices. He sucked in a breath and nodded dumbly,
“Can you answer a question first?”

Steve looked around in doubt, “We don't really have time, Bucky..”

Bucky glares at him, silent and unmoving. Even though he technically asked, he was more like telling Steve that he had a question,
“Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?”

Steve stared at him and swallowed nervously, “I didn't think… you would be so concerned..”

Bucky felt as though cold water was dumped onto him, freezing him in the cold storm winds. Disbelief surged through him, shocked down to the core, “So you thought that just leaving was okay?” He hissed out angrily, glaring at him hotly.

Steve looked ashamed. Bucky was stuck between horribly depressed by the admission and angry. He had tried his hardest to make Steve know how he felt but instead, he thought he wouldn't be “concerned” about him disappearing? Bucky scoffed and turned around to start shoving his clothes into his bag. If he was going to be staying at Steve’s, he didn't want to be wearing his clothes from his back the entire time. He didn't know how long this storm was going to last so he bought it all with him, which admittedly, wasn't much.

“So… Is that a yes?” Steve asked hopefully.

Bucky sighed and looked across the van at his Landlord cat, “Only if I can bring Landlord.”

Steve looked between him and the cat, who was desperately trying to stay dry under layers of sheets. He nodded dumbly and stuttered out, “Yeah, of course.”

X

Now that Bucky knew what was about to happen, he saw it everywhere. Stores had closed down and the streets were nearly empty. The city that never sleeps suddenly looked dead quiet. The roads were the only constant however, still horribly busy. Steve had managed to unearth a cat carrier from under the sea of reusable shopping back for Landlord, despite it being a little small. The ride was awkwardly silent and Steve looked like he was struggling to stay awake. But the news on the radio was loud enough for him to concentrate on that. Bucky listened to the warnings, the potential areas that may flood during the storm. Even though he was half listening to the radio, his mind simply kept replaying their earlier conversation. The wound throbbed and ached inside, that Steve didn’t think he was as serious about him as he was. He still felt like crying but kept the urge at bay, leaning his head against the window next to him.

When they arrived at the house, Steve put Landlord in a specific room, assuring Bucky that Mookie wasn't allowed in there anyway. He didn't ask. The house looked and smelled a little stale, as if no one had been there for a while. It made Bucky’s stomach churn uncomfortably. There was even an absence of cat in the building, making Bucky stop in the middle of the living room and look around,

“Where’s Mookie?” He asked cautiously, warily eyeing Steve.

Steve let out a heavy sigh on his way back from the spare room, pulling at his blonde hair at the top of his head,
“She’s at Natasha’s place. She watched her while I was away…”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief, earning a confused look from Steve,
“Where did you think she was?”

Bucky tensed up and shrugged, then looked down at his feet,
“I don’t know…”

Steve didn’t seem to buy it but was too tired to argue, instead flopping down on his leather couch. For some reason, it looked familiar. As if this was what Steve always did when he got back from dropping Bucky off, collapsing on the first soft surface he saw. Bucky fidgeted with the strap of his backpack, moving to sit at the other side of the sofa.

“Are you still mad at me..?” Steve asked, as if Bucky hadn’t been sending off those type of signals.

Bucky looked at Steve in angry disbelief,
“Really?”

Steve shrugged and straightened out his back,
“It was work, Bucky. There was nothing I could have done, I needed to do it.”

Bucky scoffed and looked away from him,
“You don’t get it.” Which was true. At first, Bucky was mad about him leaving to begin with, but he moved on from that after learning about Steve’s job. It was something completely different than he thought.

And Steve still wasn’t convinced that Bucky liked him back. Which, was a completely new bit of knowledge. Bucky thought, if anything, he was too transparent about his feelings. He was sure that his eyes never really helped in hiding how infatuated he was. Especially at moments like now, when Steve just looks so relaxed around him and, even though he’s concerned, he still has the most adoring eyes.

“Then explain it to me.” Steve suggested, turning to face him more on their seats. Bucky gave in and sucked in a breath.

But just as he was going to finally admit to his feelings, there was a pounding on Steve’s door. They both tensed up, but Steve more so than Bucky. He was still and solid as a plank of wood, listening intently. After a moment, he got up slowly while holding up his hand for Bucky to wait. It was as if a switch had flipped in him. He was suddenly completely alert and prowled to the door. Actually prowled, in a squared off position as if to get ready to jump on someone at any moment.

It down right scared Bucky. Suddenly, he realized that Steve couldn’t have been lying about working for the Government with such innate training like that. To completely stop what he was doing to be ready for whatever was about to happen. He watched closely, holding his breath when Steve approached the door. He wasn’t sure what he was frightened about but with a response like that from Steve, he felt as though he also needed to be extra cautious right now.

Steve carefully held onto the handle and started to, so very slowly, turn the handle. A pounding on the door shook through the house again, making Steve swing his door open and block the entrance with his body.

Then Steve groaned and put his arm on the wall to bang his head against,
“God dammit, Natasha, what?”

It was the the closest to angry Bucky has ever heard Steve. That’s including the time Bucky told him that when he sprained his ankle, he walked all the way back to the van from his place. And that was pretty close.

Natasha then rushed inside and scoffed, putting a pet carrier on the couch,
“I have enough mouths to feed at my place right now, у меня нет места для нее.” She looked over at Bucky and waved quickly, “Hello James. Why didn’t you tell me you were back, why did Clint end up telling me before you.” Natasha quickly averted her attention from Bucky back to Steve, crossing her arms over her chest.

In the carrier, there were familiar cat meows but just slightly more desperate than usual. Bucky immediately reached for it, turning the cage to peer inside. Inside, his suspicions were correct, was Mookie. She was bunched in the back of the carrier, ears flat down against her head. Bucky out the tip of his finger inside, moving it a little to get her attention.

“I had something else to do.” He mumbled, Bucky pointedly trying to ignore listening to them. But he heard them both whisper in quick Russian, obviously he wasn’t supposed to hear some details. Then Natasha let out a heavy sigh heard her whisper,

“Glad you made it back safe… Don’t forget about your debrief tonight.”

The door was closed after that, the house once again silent. Steve let out a breath and walked around to the other side of the couch,
“I didn’t have time to go and pick her up yet.” He mumbled out, kneeling down to look inside the carrier, “Hey there, girlie. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Steve opened the cage and waited for her to come out on her own, which only a couple seconds after realizing where she was. Steve stood up and stretched his ridiculously long body. Bucky eyed the patch of pale skin that peeked from under Steve’s shirt. He looked away before he noticed. The heat that sparked in his belly would have to wait.

“I need to take a shower.” Steve stated, pulling his shirt forward to look at whatever grime was there, “And change…”

Bucky managed to convince Mookie onto his lap, where he distractedly (albeit pointedly) played with the kitten. She almost instantly got her spirit back when she realized she was safe, attacking and playing with Bucky’s hand.

“Make yourself comfy, Bucky. Help yourself to the kitchen, or anything else in the house.” Steve shyly suggested, making him look over at him.

And it was really hard to remember that Bucky wasn’t too keen on Steve just then, when he had that pathetically hopeful look on his face. Under the scruff of a dark chestnut brown beard and the layer of grime on his skin, as if he’d been running from place to place, he just looked like a fluffy puppy. Bucky let out a sigh and nodded, dragging his attention back onto the kitten,
“Yeah… thank you, Steve.”

He can be civil. That’s okay. And whatever he was going to talk about before can wait, that’s for sure. At least, that’s what Bucky was telling himself.

x

After Steve had gotten out of the shower, the entire house smelled like his body soap. To say that Bucky hadn’t smelled anything so god damn good in a long time would be an understatement. He looked down at his own tattered clothes, desperately aware of how he smelled. Not at all as good as his body soap, which smelled earthy but with a hint of spice. It was perfectly Steve.

And Bucky wanted it, badly. Everything about Steve, he was desperate for. The security he gives him, the calmness that envelopes him when they’re together, and the reassurance that everything was going to be okay. It was a hard hitting reality that Bucky just walked on, desperate to just exist with Steve. He didn’t care how at this point, as long as they were just together.

So he sucked in a breath and went to find him. He was content with not telling Steve how he felt for the fear of rejection. He was fine with letting Steve decide their pace and where they would end up because it was easier like that. But with his smell all around him and the coziness of his home, he decided hes had enough of being scared. Bucky had been forced to be scared for almost all his life. Frightened by every decision he’s had to make and the consequences that would come from it. But Steve, despite disappearing on him, was a sure thing. Since even though he left him hanging for a month, he came back. And by the looks of it, Bucky was the first person he saw when he came back from whatever mission he was on. So now it was time for Bucky to take the next step for them and look for Steve.

He was sure that he was in his room upstairs, so Bucky came up to the doorway. It was cracked open and he heard Steve rustling inside. Nervously, he knocked gently on the wood as to not open it more. But Steve heard him, humming out for him to come inside.

Bucky nearly fainted on spot from looking at Steve. He was fresh and clean, but his beard was well trimmed and close to his face. His hair was perfectly swept to the side, but still damp from the shower. His skin tight vest top didn’t help in hiding the shapes of his perfect muscles underneath. He looked cozy in his sweatpants, and the towel was still thrown around his neck. It was disgustingly domestic.

Bucky stuttered at first then swallowed, looking away from Steve to gather his courage, than back at him,
“I’m not mad that you left, I’m mad that you think I don’t care about you enough to worry that you were gone.” Bucky rethought his confession quickly before shaking his, “I wasn’t even mad I was just… sad.”

Steve stood up straighter from in front of the dresser, facing Bucky completely now, “So you do?”

Bucky rolled his eyes and flapped his arms a little uselessly, “Yeah, I thought that was obvious.”

Steve smiled bashfully and crossed his arms, shrugging a shoulder, “You’re harder to read than you think.”

Bucky sighed and took another step into the room, “What I’m trying to say is that I like you too, Steve,” Steve softened and pulled the towel from his shoulders to lay on the bed while making his way over to him. “Is that clear enough for you?” He asked, looking at Steve hopefully while he still strided over to him.

Steve put his hands on Bucky’s hips and he nodded, “Yeah…”

Bucky swallowed and kept his eyes on Steve’s, desperately trying not to completely ogle him and his ridiculously tight body,
“But if you do that again, I’ll punch you.” Bucky meekly said back, absolutely no threat to it at all.

Steve laughed and nodded. There was a comfortable silence between them as Steve thought, then cautiously said, “That’s not going to be the last time that is going to happen…” Steve informed, looking down at the ground between them, hands still heavy on Bucky’s hips, “My.. job… needs me to travel a lot.”

Bucky didn’t hesitate, he shrugged and reached to feel the now neat beard on Steve, fingers scratching through the thick hair, “I’ll wait, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Steve looked up at him with a slow smile creeping onto his face. Bucky was stunned for the a moment, even as Steve leaned forward to press a kiss onto his lips,
“You’re amazing.”

Bucky knew he should’ve argued it, maybe helped him see how many flaws he had, how he deserves better. But that selfish part of him, the one that had been begging for anything Steve related, drove him to accept the kiss and what he said. For now, he’ll believe it. He deserved it, he felt like.

x

Steve invited Bucky to use his shower.

What Steve didn’t tell Bucky was that his shower was big enough to fit entire family.
Similar to the rest of the house, the style of the bathroom looked very modern and sleek. The tiles were white and clean, meeting halfway up the wall to charcoal black paint. The shower itself was mostly made of glass, lined with beautifully intricate tiles of white glass and pale grey granite. There were dual ceiling rainfall shower heads and lights that glowed in warm white around the spouts. There was a sophisticated air in the room, so stylish that Bucky felt as though he was standing in the middle of a showfloor. It also felt a little too sterile, as if it was painstakingly kept so tidy and clean.

Steve’s soaps were all brands that Bucky had never heard of before but looked salon quality, an indulgent that Steve seemed to be keen on. The shampoo, however, was the odd one out. It was a generic brand that didn’t have anything particularly special about it. But when Bucky took a curious sniff of it, a smile split through his face. Apples, it smelled as if there was a basket of fresh apples right in front of him. It was so devastatingly Steve. The rest of the products simply smelled like flowery perfumes, the typical scent for such expensive things. It was still the best smells though that Bucky had ever had the privilege of cleaning himself with. The hint of apples was what Bucky found the most enjoyable, lathering the soap into his hair languidly.

Bucky took his time in the shower, just soaking in the warm water and enjoying the opportunity to feel as if he were normal. For a quick moment, Bucky fantasized that this was his home with Steve. That this was their shower, in a bathroom attached to their room. That the kitchen downstairs belong to him as well as Steve, with a mixture of their own cravings tucked away in the cupboards and fridge. That after a long day of grueling work, this was the definite place he had waiting for him.

Not the van that Bucky was sure wouldn’t be there in a few days. It was bittersweet, the shower. It was a chance to get to unwind and appreciate the beauty of the simple things like this. But it was also painful, a reminder of the things he could never have. Not with his shitty job, his shitty luck, and his shitty personality. He could never deserve a place this wonderful.

And Bucky really needed to keep reminding himself of that.

x

After the shower, Bucky found Steve putting on a pair of shoes in the living room. He tilted his head in question while rubbing the ridiculously fluffy towel through his hair,
“Going out?”

Steve sighed heavily and nodded, lacing up his sneakers tightly before standing up, “Yeah. I have a debriefing to go to. I’ll only be an hour or two, it should be quick.” He came around to where Bucky was standing at the bottom of the stairs and planted his hands on his hips. That seemed to be a favorite place for Steve to touch, an easy point of contact that Bucky had found himself addicted to, “Want anything while I’m out?”

Bucky thought about the question. Usually, he’d say no. But he was sinning enough as it was, what would a little more do? So he sucked in a breath and named the first thing that came to mind,
“Ice cream?”

Steve smiled brightly and nodded, “Okay. Any particular flavor?”

Bucky knew instantly, “Chocolate. Double chocolate. Triple, if they have it.”

Steve chuckled and leaned forward to press a kiss against his lips, “Anything for you.”

Bucky felt his stomach twist and tighten at the words, sure that if he really did want something outrageous, Steve would get it. He really did believe that Steve would get him anything, if he asked. And that was a dangerous feeling.

“You look good in my clothes.” Steve shyly added against his lips. Bucky grinned, puffing out his chest unknowingly, “Like you’re mine.”

Bucky looked up at him curiously, his heart suddenly pounding, “Am I?”

Steve looked right back at him, a mask of coolness failing to hide how nervous he was, “Do you want to be?”

Bucky wasn’t that surprised that Steve would put the responsibility of that decision in his hands, but still was shocked by the weight of it. This was the moment, the time where Bucky had to decide what they were. They were definitely at least friends. That ugly voice in the back of his head told him to decline. To give Steve this out to save them both from the pain of it later. Or more so, to save Bucky from the pain. It was inevitable, their separation. Steve will see how much better he could do and how much of a loser Bucky was and leave him behind. But then there was that glimpse of light, warm and inviting. The inkling of an idea of getting to spend a lifetime with Steve, in his ridiculously huge bed with their cats, build a life together. Together… what a tempting word. So he bit his lip and nodded just as shyly, a whisper of a word back at him,

“Yeah…”

x

While Steve was out, Bucky took the time to check up on Landlord. After they had exchanged a series of heated and satisfying kisses, Steve lad left him with the pet supplies to give to Landlord. The final look that Steve had given him before he left was something he wouldn’t forget any time soon, full of so much adoration and passion. It made Bucky feel warm under his skin and it was a feeling that he loved getting used to. Now Bucky was sitting cross legged on the floor in what looked like Steve’s office, petting Landlord gently while she ate. Thankfully Steve had just switched over to regular cat food instead of kitten so she was able to have some of it and not be worried about what would happen otherwise.

While she ate, Bucky let his curiosity get the better of him. This seemed to be one of the few rooms in the house that Steve put more effort into making personal, with a clutter of picture frames and notebooks scatter around. On top of his desk were four frames, and Bucky wanted to look at each of them the most. With one last cursory glance at the door, he got up and went to just peek at them.

The first one, closest to the left and next to a lamp, was of him and Natasha. They looked impossibly young, almost as if they were still in high school. Steve was still pretty strong looking but not nearly as bulky as he does now, his cheeks still a little full with baby fat. Natasha didn’t look anything like herself, and if it weren’t for her memorable heart-shaped face he wouldn’t know it was her. Instead of her hair being the deep ruby red it is now, it was blonde and long in silky waves. They had their arms slung around each other's shoulders with carefree smiles. Both of them looked so pure, so untouched by the world.

The next, which was the least dusty of the four, was of a pretty and thin woman. Bucky squinted and saw a striking resemblance to Steve, with his specifically pointed nose and shocking blue eyes. She was looking up at the camera from sitting on a grassy field, appeared to be reading. There was a stunningly bright smile on her face, another feature that was very similar to Steve’s. There were finger smudges on the glass, as if it had been touched recently. Bucky felt as if he were intruding while looking at that one, so he quickly averted his eyes.

The third was the only landscape style photo, wide and a group photo of what looked like Steve’s graduating military class. Everyone was wearing dark pressed military uniforms and Steve seemed to be a beacon in the middle. Not very far from him was Natasha, much bulkier in this photo than the first. Steve looked ridiculously handsome in this one, completely clean cut and sharp in his suit. Bucky couldn’t help but lift the photo, looking it over closer. Bucky felt a wave of proud affection surge through him, his eyes roaming over his stoic expression and down over the deep blue uniform that seemed to hug his every corner perfectly. He put it back as close to how it was as he could.

The last, all the way on the other side of the spacious desk, was also of Steve and Natasha. But this one had two other people in it. A dark skinned man with a goatee, wearing what looked like a pararescue backpack. He was the only one looking at the camera, everyone else looking down at a map on top of a Humvee. The other was a blonde wearing purple sunglasses, holding the camera up in a selfie position. They looked like they were surrounded by sand and heat, in the middle of a desert. Steve looked oldest in this photo, at least from what he could tell from under the tan camouflage helmet.

It was weird seeing Steve in these different snapshots of his life, an outsider peering into his most personal memories unabashedly. At first Bucky wanted to look at these photos just to get to see more of Steve’s illusive past but now he felt as if he’d gone behind his back by doing so, looking into something he shouldn’t be looking at. Bucky was quickly startled by the sound of Landlord jumping off of a chair, immediately thinking that he had been caught snooping. When he realized it was just the orange tabby, he let out a breath and smiled, walking over to pet her soothingly,

“Don’t scare me like that, you brat.”

He did feel bad she was cooped up in this room, especially being a feral cat, but it was best to make sure she was clean from fleas before putting her in the same room as Mookie. That and it probably wouldn’t be best to introduce the two without both adults there to make sure that things don’t go dramatic. So with a few last loving pets, Bucky left the room to explore the house a little more. Steve had said to make himself comfortable.

Bucky was correct on his previous guess of the house containing four bedrooms, what he was surprised to find was four other bathroom besides Steve’s personal one. The house seemed to continually twist and curl around, never ending in a labyrinth of long hallways. Maybe Bucky just wasn’t used to being in a house of this caliber but he felt as though he was secluded from the world. As if nothing could get him while he was here, in this whole other universe. Bucky took his time at looking at each room, trying to figure out the stories the rooms contained.

Two of the bedrooms had been converted to offices, the first one with Landlord. Filing cabinets, printers, scanners, the usual that a home office would need inside. The other, taking Bucky completely by surprise, was an office meant for an artist. Scattered all along the brick walls were canvases and paint splatters. All around the room were pots and mugs filled with stale paint water, the smell of turpentine and acrylic heavy in the air. This room seemed to have the biggest windows he’s seen yet, wide and with a perfect view of New York City’s busy underbelly. The canvases were covered by thin sheets and Bucky felt the same pang of curiosity from earlier. And for a moment, he almost gave in. But then he remembered the guilty feeling that followed and decided against it. Instead, he started making his way out of the room. When he had softly closed the door behind him, he heard another open. He perked and went down the twisting path of the stairs.

Steve looked like a wet dog, dripping from every inch and soaked to the bone. Bucky let out a chuckle at how he desperately tried to take off his soaked sneakers. Steve inelegantly swayed on one leg, the other bent at the knee to untie his shoe before tumbling down to his bottom. Bucky laughed harder at that but shuffled forward to help him back up,
“Guess that means it’s starting to come down?”

Steve sighed and nodded, taking off his shoes from the floor and taking Bucky’s hand to get back up,
“It’s like cats and dogs.” Steve held up a familiar looking grocery bag, “Speaking of cats, I got Landlord some treats.”

Bucky waited for the addition to that sentence of his own treat, but Steve simply walked forward with a teasing smile on his face. Bucky pouted and asked hopefully,
“What else you get?”

Steve put the bag on the kitchen counter and took off his sopping wet jacket, “Hm? Oh, nothing.” Steve answered, taking his time to hang up his coat on the rack in the living room. He poked through the bag, “Some bread, a few apples…”

Bucky tried looking over Steve’s impossibly wide shoulders into the bag, but he kept moving to perfectly block the view. Bucky whined and crossed his arms,
“Did you get ice cream?” He had asked pleadingly.

Steve chuckled and turned around, keeping the bag completely behind him.
“What do I get in return if I did?”

Bucky looked over Steve’s face, how he still looked tired and ready to pass out at any second, but there was playful look under it all. Even now, when he’s had god knows what happen to him this past month and he had just gotten off the clock, he was ready to try at pleasing Bucky. He still wanted to have fun and tease him, whether he realized the last part or not. Bucky blinked and thought himself, what would he do for ice cream?

Bucky grinned and shrugged a shoulder, taking the small step forward to press his chest against Steve’s,
“Depends. What’re you lookin’ for?” Bucky tilted his head forward to brush their noses together, his lips teasingly close to his, “Cause I’m willing to do a whole lot for it…” He mumbled back, even going so far as rolling his hips against Steve’s in what he hoped was a seductive way.

Steve instantly clammed up, the playful look replaced by downright nervous want. Bucky at first panicked but decided to roll with it, letting whatever felt right happen. He slid his hands from Steve’s bulging chest down to his sharp hips, fingernails scratching over the fabric at the tight skin. It had been a while since Bucky had needed to pull of these kind of tricks out but it worked like it always did in college, leaving Steve breathless and staring down at him. Bucky grinned and soaked in his attention, straightening his back out to finally press their lips together. Steve’s hands instantly latched onto the small of his back, gentle but mildly possessive.

Bucky licked at his bottom lip, even going so far as nibbling the plump skin invitingly, and closed his eyes. Steve seemed to hesitate but opened up, letting Bucky explore for the first time. He tasted like sugar and mint, Bucky instantly addicted to the taste. For a brief moment, he forgot about his agenda and let himself indulge. Steve kissed like how he did everything else, with so much passion and concentration, Bucky felt like he was about to melt in his hands.

Bucky let his fingers walk from Steve’s hips to the counter behind him, silently reaching inside for the container of ice cream. Steve was still completely distracted by their mouths, unaware of the rustling of the bags behind them. When Bucky had gotten a sure grip on the ice cream, he pulled back from the kiss and grinned devilishly, opening his eyes to take a look at his work. Steve was panting, his entire face a beautiful shade of pink. His lips were wet and looked red from the exchange, Bucky barely holding himself back enough to kiss him again. Instead, he pressed his nose to the hinge of Steve’s jaw teasingly then whispered,
“Thanks for the ice cream.”

Steve looked baffled when Bucky took one last look before moving out of his embrace with the ice cream in hand. He sauntered over to the kitchen and grabbed a spoon. He pried open the lid and eagerly ripped off the plastic cover, revealing deliciously brown ice cream under it. Bucky plunged the spoon in the cream and grabbed a huge lump of it. He felt Steve’s eyes on his back, heard him still trying to catch his breath, but was very distracted by the ice cream. Eagerly, he shoved the spoon in his mouth and downright moaned from the taste.

There was an array of chocolate flavours dancing across his tastebuds, every kind Bucky had hoped for. There was the bitterness of the dark chocolate chunks, the ribbons of chocolate fudge, and the sweetness of creamy milk chocolate, all together in one heaping spoonful. Bucky had to tighten his grip on the container to steady himself, sucking on all the flavors slowly.

He felt nervous hands slide around his hips and hold on tight, equally bashful lips on the back of his neck. A warm chest pressed against his back and it felt like heaven. Bucky eagerly took another spoonful and shoved it into his mouth with just as much gusto as the first one. Steve kept kissing across his shoulders and pulled him close on an embrace,
“You’re a menace.” He mumbled out, his voice gravelly and thick. Bucky grinned.

“I know…” He sighed out around the ice cream.

x

Steve had managed to convince Bucky to scoop the ice cream into bowls instead of just eating it out of the tub, where they took them to watch movies in Steve’ living room. They sat together on the couch, a moderate amount of space between them. Bucky was desperate to fill in the space, to feel how warm Steve can get, but decided against it. He had already pushed his luck with the saucy kiss and wouldn’t want to overstep boundaries, seeing as how they had barely just gotten to the point where they can talk about their feelings with each other. Bucky sighed inwardly around one of the last couple of spoonfuls of ice cream, barely even watching whatever movie was playing on the ridiculously huge flat screen tv.

The pictures from Steve’s office kept bugging him, nagging at him from the back of his mind. They rose more questions than answered, and that was without even thinking of the painting room. Which lead to Bucky putting the bowl down on his lap and licking off any remaining chocolate from his lips, all while he thought of what to say,

“Can I ask you something?” He finally spoke out, barely louder than the tv.

Steve shifted his gaze from the movie to him, nodding and leaning back on the couch, “Sure.”

Bucky chewed at his lip a little, “Were you in the military?”

Steve stiffened up at that, to Bucky’s regret. But this was a subject that he couldn’t hold back on anymore, it was eating him alive. He needed to know more about Steve than the funny stories of his purposely vague work life and his beautiful home.

“Yeah…” Steve scratched at the back of his neck, “I technically still am.” He looked hesitant to continue.

Bucky put the bowl on the coffee table in front of them and turn to face Steve completely, now ignoring the movie on screen all together, “What do you do…?” He encouraged gently, hoping Steve would be able to answer.

He looked nervous and weary, but eventually gave in, “I… work for a very covert Special Units branch.” He swallowed nervously and looked down at his own bowl of soupy melted ice cream, “I’m a spy, basically.” He mumbled out, his face turning a light shade of pink.

Bucky’s eyes widened, “Like James Bond?”

Steve froze and looked up at Bucky, “What?”

Bucky laughed lightly and shifted to get a little closer to him, “I don’t know, when I hear spy I think of James Bond… So are you?”

Steve watched him and looked as if he were holding his breath, “That’s what you first think of?”

Bucky’s brow stitched together in confusion and he shrugged, “Yeah? Is that weird?”

Steve appeared to be reading Bucky then, looking over his face with focus. Then he let out a breath and smiled, “No, that’s not weird. And yeah, I’m kind of like James Bond.”

Bucky’s confusion shifted over to smugness, leaning to the side against the back of the couch. He put an arm up on top of the cushion to rest his head against his fist, comfortable and lazy in his position, “So does that make me a Bond girl?”

Steve huffed out a laugh at that, then put his own bowl next to Bucky’s before also turning his attention completely back to him, “I guess it does…”

Bucky grinned and mulled over it for a second, trying to think of what to ask next from the fishbowl of thoughts he had, “How long have you been James Bond?”

Steve still appeared to be nervous but not too uncomfortable, instead he mirrored Bucky’s position a bit by leaning against the back of the cushion while facing him, “A long time…” He muttered out almost regretfully.

Bucky frowned at that, at his suddenly distant gaze and sad voice, “Do you want to stop?”

Steve sighed and shrugged, “I don’t know… Yeah, I do.” He answered sluggishly, “I just don’t know.. what to do after. I’ve been doing this since I could enlist, I don’t know how to do anything else.” He seemed to shyly admit, not being able to look up at Bucky.

Bucky frowned and immediately thought of the painter’s room, “Why… not art?” Steve’s head shot up from that, his eyes wide as if Bucky had just grown another head, “I saw the room. You have talent, Steve.” He whispered out, as if he were admitting a wrong he had done. And from Steve’s odd reaction, maybe he did do something wrong. Maybe he was never supposed to see that room.

But Steve deflated, all worry of him being mad at him dissipating, “I can’t just do art for a living.”

Bucky squinted at him and shrugged, “Why not?”

Steve looked as if he were going to say something but stopped half way through. He looked up at Bucky and let out the breath he had taken to speak in a silent exhale. They shared a look between each other, Bucky open and adoring while Steve was cautious but a little excited. Like Bucky gave him an answer to his worries. And in some way, without Bucky realizing it, he did.

Steve leaned forward, as if aiming to kiss Bucky and he was grinning, ready for it. Just as they were about to press their lips together in that satisfying experience, a flash of lightning blinded through and a clap of thunder rang through. Steve tensed up in his spot and took in a sharp breath. Bucky looked around at the suddenly dark house, glaring at the darkness,

“Well, I guess you weren’t kidding about it really starting to come down.” He joked but when he looked over at Steve, even in the darkness, he could see his downright panic, “Steve?”

Steve was silent and his eyes darted in every sort direction. Bucky reached forward, pressing a hand gently against the side of his jaw, “Steve? You there, buddy?”

Steve’s eyes snapped up to him and he swallowed down a gulp of air, “Y-Yeah…”

The lights trickled back on soon after, the hum of a nearby back up generator kicking in. Of course this place had a backup generator, Bucky thought. But now that he had the chance to get a better look at Steve’s face, he was still filled with worry. He looked distant and still panicked, eyes wide and unfocused. Bucky sucked in a breath and steeled his courage, “Steve, come on. Let’s go lie down.”

Bucky helped him stand up and guided him to the bedroom. Steve was placcant and let Bucky maneuver him as he needed, making him start to worry. He sat him down on the edge of his bed and put his hands back on his jaw, “Breathe with me, Stevie…” Bucky mumbled out reassuring, breathing loudly for him to follow. Steve looked up at him and followed his breathing, his eyes desperate and fogged over. To be honest, Bucky had no idea what to do. He’s heard of soldiers getting triggered into episodes from the smallest of things but he never thought he’d have to go through it too. Looking back on it, he should have realized that Steve had some kind of PTSD from earlier when Natasha stopped by.

Carefully, and all within Steve’s sights, he pulled the sheets back from the bed and gently coerced him to lay down. Slowly, he went to the other side and got under the blankets with him. Steve looked like he had relaxed but was still breathing harshly so Bucky took his hand and pressed against his chest,
“Breathe with me.” He reminded him, earning Steve’s attention again.

They breathed together with the lights still on, watching each other until Bucky first fell asleep. Steve followed soon after.

x

They slept all through morning, well into the morning. The only reason why they had woken up, to Bucky’s knowledge, was because Mookie had started howling hungrily at the door. Bucky opened his eyes slowly, coming out of his deep sleep to see Steve tenderly watching him. He would have felt unsettled if it weren’t for just how content he looked. There were still dark purple bags under his eyes and he still looked shaken up but he also appeared to be more refreshed and alert. Bucky smiled and snuggled down into the pile of pillows under him, pulling the blankets closer to his chin,
“Hi…” He whispered out, never breaking eye contact with Steve.

Steve smiled and leaned forward, pressing a kiss onto his forehead, “Hey…”

Bucky heard Mookie’s hungry howls but had to ask first, “Feeling better?”

Steve looked like he was just as content to stay there for a moment longer to answer, “Yeah… thank you.”

Bucky smiled warmly and nodded. Steve gave in to Mookie’s persistent meows and got up. Bucky watched him go, specifically how his butt looked in those sweatpants. For now, he was content with still lying bed. Hell, he could stay in this bed for the rest of his life.

But alas, he heard Steve call out, “Hey Buck, think we should try seeing how Mookie and Landlord get along?”

Bucky let out a sigh and slowly dragged himself out of the bed, leaving the wonderful warmth behind, “Yeah, she shouldn’t be alone.” He called back.

Bucky went down the stairs and saw Steve crouching next to Mookie as she ate, petting her gingerly. He watched for a moment before purposely making a show of opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. Steve lifted Mookie and they looked at each other warily,
“Shall we?”

Bucky sighed and nodded, expecting the worst.

What he didn’t expect was for Landlord to immediately start attempting at cleaning Mookie. The second Steve had put Mookie down on the floor in the office, Landlord poked her head out of open carrier look at them all. Her pink nose twitched and sniffed the air around them cautiously, then approached Mookie with hesitance. Mookie carefully sniffed back at her, both of them trying to get a read on each other. Bucky and Steve watched intently, ready to jump in at any moment’s notice. But surprising them both, Landlord immediately started to lick at the crown of Mookie’s head and moved down from there.

Steve laughed and leaned back on his palms while looking at them, “Well alright then…”

Bucky watched them get along, Landlord giving up at cleaning Mookie and now lying down lazily as she jumped around her. Bucky took a look outside and saw that it was still cloudy but had stopped raining. The sun looked as if it were struggling to shine through but succeeded in short intervals, filling the room with warmth. Then he looked at Steve, who was looking at their cats. As if feeling Bucky’s eyes on him, he looked back at him. They shared a comfortable silence around them until Steve asked out, nervous and shy,
“Can I ask you a… personal question?”

Bucky nodded and turned his attention back to Mookie, who had started trotting over to him. She butted her head against his leg until he started to pet her. He heard Steve take a deep breath in as if preparing himself for something then asked,

“How did you end up in the van?” Steve stammered out, “I know that’s really personal and it’s fine if-”

“It’s fine.” Bucky interrupted. He severed whatever emotional connection to the events, at least he thought so. He continued, “It’s really depressing, you don’t want to hear it…”

Steve was silent for a moment before shifting closer to him and reaching for his free hand. Bucky looked up from Mookie to him again, and was greeted by a look of safety and comfort. Steve was so openly adoring that Bucky couldn’t help but want to tell him, to give him anything he’d want. But then there was the fear, the fear that after telling Steve, he’d up and leave. He’d never want a broken thing like him. But Bucky didn’t give in to those fears before, why would he now? So after taking in a comforting breath, he nodded,
“Alright. But I warned you.”

“I had a sister. Her name was Rebecca... she’d be turning twenty-one by now. My parents loved her, so much. My mother was so ready for a daughter and I don’t think my dad realized how ready he was for her, but he was estatic. Looking back on it, I think they wanted a daughter first. So when she was born, she completely soaked up their attention. There was a part of me that wanted to hate her for it, how they took their time, their love, away from me. But when I first got to hold her, there was no way I could. Not when she looked so much like me and was so impossibly small. They loved her so much…

My father wasn’t a nice man at all. My mother married him because she got pregnant with me and my grandmother refused to pay for anything unless they got married. They tried to make it work, I think. But they were just… too different. When Becca turned five, I was eleven. I was starting to see that they weren’t the good people my little baby brain thought they were. They were both ugly and mean people who didn’t understand children at all. I started to fight with them, all the time. Now it was us three, always argueing, over everything. My father would want my mother to be the typical wife, make dinner and clean things. But my mother just wanted to be left alone, to just cry and hate her life.”

“The inevitable happened, I guess. They split. The worst part was that Becca went to my dad and I was 18 by then, so I didn’t need to be fought over. Not that they did.. but God, it was so bad…” Bucky felt tears start to sting his eyes, “It was so bad, Steve. She wouldn’t do anything. Losing Becca… it ruined her. She wouldn’t do anything but sit and drink. All day long, from the moment she woke up to the moment she went to bed. And even worse, I let her. I hated her so much, I hated her for not caring. She was sick, Steve, and I let her be.”

Bucky let out a sob, earning a tight squeeze from Steve’s hand in his own. Bucky didn’t look at him, instead staring intently at the grain of the wood floors. Bucky had to do this. This had been things he’s held inside since it’s happened and telling Steve, someone who legitimately cares, feels so freeing, so exceptionally relieving, he was half ready to cry from feeling so light.

“Dad and Becca went to Illinois, where he had a friend who was going to set him up with a job. But when they got there, his friend ended up getting fired and couldn’t get him work. They lived off of nothing and my sister got sick she…” He stopped, looking away to gather himself out of Steve’s gaze, “She was still so little... My dad just vanished after that, never heard from him again. I got a grant to go to college, to try to get away from her. I thought things were going to be alright, I could do my own thing and leave behind the pain. I got a job, balanced school, made friends..” He sucked in a shuddering breath, “Got my own apartment… but then my job let me go, my friends graduated and left city and I started flunking my classes. When I got my eviction notice, I had to call my mom to ask for my room back.” He let out a bitter and wet laugh, “But she wasn’t answering. Wouldn’t answer any of my calls, so I went to go check on her and..” He hunched over, resting his forehead on his knee, “God, Steve, nobody told me. Her old neighbor was the one who told me, that an ambulance came the day before.” Bucky coughed out, giving in to the tears, letting them fall as they pleased, “Everyone was gone.”

Bucky let himself cry, let it all flow out as it had desperately wanted to do for years. He felt Steve’s hand on his back, rubbing back and forth soothingly. But Bucky couldn’t stop now, not when it’s started. Steve scooted in closer to him to wrap his arms around him, pulling him tight to his side. Bucky gave in to the affection and turned to press his face against his neck, desperately trying to get a hold of himself but failing.

Bucky cried for what felt like hours but instead was merely a few minutes until he was able to get things under control. Steve’s hand never stopped touching in, roaming across his back in circles or squares, anything to get Bucky back to them.

“You’re so incredible…” Steve whispered out, Bucky sniffling loudly against him.

“I’m pathetic, Steve.”

“No.” Steve pulled away from his slightly to look at him, “No, you are not. That’s rough, Bucky. That’s the worst thing that could have happened to you but you persevered. You didn’t let it get you down. You kept trying as hard as you could. So what you didn’t get through college, you’re not the only one who's dropped out. I haven’t even tried college. You gave it everything you got and when it slapped you back in the face, you kept on going. That’s amazing.” He voice as sure and didn’t at all deceive him, making Bucky let out another wet sob.

“How could you be so nice to me, Steve?” Bucky finally asked, a question that had been bothering him since they met, “How is it that no matter you, you always are so nice to a person like me? Homeless, dirty, good for nothi-”

“Stop.” Steve interrupted, moving his hands to take hold of Bucky’s face gently, “Stop that.”

They shared a look between them before Steve leaned forward to press kisses all around Bucky’s face in a familiar pattern. The first kiss was on his cheek. Steve looked back at him quizzically. Bucky still felt the pain and hurt in his heart. So Steve leaned forward to kiss his brow. When he looked back again, Bucky felt warm but as if he would still break at any moment. So he kissed the tip of his nose, soft and gentle. Bucky melted into his embrace. The pain was still there, and Bucky felt as if it always will be. But he wasn’t alone, not anymore. And he felt as if he never will be again. When Steve took one last look at him, he looked as if he could read Bucky now, like an open book. Everything he was feeling, everything he was thinking was plain across his face. So there was a final kiss, reassuring and strong, on his lips. Bucky wanted to pull away since he was still he was covered in snot and wet from tears but Steve didn’t move away so Bucky didn’t either. He'd followed Steve direction, he realized, no matter what.

Chapter Text

There’s a lot that separates people from beasts. The fact that people have thumbs, nice big brains, complete sentience… The list continues. But one that thing trumps over it all would have to be passion. Passion surges through a person in ways that an animal could never understand. Passion seeps through every pore, saturates everything they do, if they allow it. Passion pulls a person out from the depth of despair up into cloud nine. Passion helps more ways than a person could ever comprehend. Passion is irreplaceable, life-long and never quits. In the end, passion is the best thing humans have going on for them.

x

“Mom was a veterinarian. She loved animals, said they were God’s gifts to us. She would come home with a different animal for the weekend every week from the clinic. One time, she brought a possum over who chewed on everything. He chewed on my toy soldiers, I cried for hours. When my mom took him back to the clinic, I was so happy. It was one of the best days of my life.”
Steve mumbled out while snuggled under bedsheets, his arms wrapped tightly around Bucky. Bucky held back just as urgently, listening to him talk contently.

“I minored in Music Theory in college.” Bucky whispered back, both of them so close together that Steve heard him clear as day. “I got to listen to music for hours on end, all day long. It was so much fun. I think that’s why I failed so hard towards the end, I concentrated more on having fun than studying.” Bucky felt their cats shifts at the end of the bed, the bulkier of the two jumping off and strutting out of the room.

“What was your major?” Steve asked calmly.

Bucky sighed out,“Engineering Science…”

Steve watched him carefully before pressing tender kisses against his lips,
“You never cease to amaze me.”

After Bucky’s complete breakdown from talking about his past, Steve had gently guided him back to his bedroom. The storm had nearly dissipated completely, leaving dull grey skies outside, so the room was cast in a soft blue hue. After checking, Steve had seen that the hurricane had actually lost power and was simply a tropical storm by morning. So slowly but surely, everything seemed to light back up outside. But they decided to return to bed, comfort each other until Bucky’s tears turned into wet hiccups then into tired yawns. It wasn’t that late into the day, but they had decided to retire from it early. They would instead stay in each other’s comforting embrace, maybe order food later on in the day from whatever was open.

Bucky felt raw. He felt raw and picked open. He had completely laid his soul bare for Steve to see and Steve accepted him completely, without hesitation. To say that it had caught Bucky off guard was an understatement, just how accepting he was. He listened to all of Bucky’s sob story, watched him ugly cry for a little while, then nearly carried him upstairs to his bed. Now they were laying together, their limbs tangled together in warm protectiveness. Steve had started telling Bucky’s random stories in no specific order about his own childhood, soothing Bucky back to a lull of calmness. It gave him something to ground himself with, latch onto until he could start telling stories back. He didn’t have many good stories to share but any nice memory he had, he told him.

Bucky got to learn a lot about Steve. He learned about how his father was in the Army, that he originally grew up in New Jersey then moved to Brooklyn. Learned that for most of his childhood, he was more of a brunette, than his hair bleached by the sun after the Army. It ranged from really heavy stories, like his mother’s death, to light stories, like the day he had gotten Mookie. All of them were valuable glimpses into Steve’s past that Bucky gobbled up whole, desperate to latch onto each story. The entire time, Bucky felt as if he were the luckiest man alive.

They both stopped lounging around when their stomachs seemed to simultaneously grumble, and Steve called for food to be delivered to the house. The only place that seemed to be open was an expensive Indian place that Bucky had never heard of before, so he let him order for him. When the food arrived, Bucky looked at the multiple bags of food that Steve towed into the kitchen. He was still completely wrapped up in a thick blanket and was sitting on the barstool at the island counters, where Steve plopped the bags down,

“Damn Steve, think you got enough food?” Bucky teased, smiling a little tightly. It was hard to smile right now but he was going to try.

“I couldn’t decide.” He chuckled out, starting to unpack the food, “There’s satay, masamaan, some… kind of other curry. This one is green, it said it had spinach, that’s tasty…” Bucky watched in amusement as the counter got completely covered in food. But even with all the food spread out in front of him, which he would have salivated over nearly a couple of days ago, he can only keep his eyes on Steve. The way he moved, fluid like water, despite all those muscles and hulking weight. Bucky slowly reached out to grab at Steve’s shirt and pull him closer, turning the chair to direct him between his now opened legs. Steve halted what he was saying, something about tomato paste, to look down at Bucky with a bright blush, “Hi…”

Bucky’s smile warmed up a little, not as tight. His hand moved from his shirt to the back of his neck, guiding him down for a kiss. It felt perfect, everything about it, just as Steve’s kisses always were. Bucky was warm and secure, wrapped in an impossibly thick blanket. He felt adored and treasured, by Steve’s lips and the display of foods before him. He felt like there was no better place to be than right there. When Bucky pulled away, Steve had a completely dazed look on his face, staring back at him with a slow grin.

Steve cleared his throat after a moment and turned back to the food, “What do you wanna try first?”

Bucky looked at the food, the dozens of containers around, and shrugged, “The green stuff looks good.”

Steve nodded and got them both bowls with serving spoons to start dishing out the food. Bucky had never eaten stuff like this before so trying out all of this new flavors and textures was an adventure. He decided, in the end, he LOVED Indian. The green stuff, which Bucky found out is called saag paneer, was by far his favorite. He dipped his naan into it, poured it over his rice and topped everything else with it. Nearly all of it was gone by the time they had finished and Steve started cleaning up. Bucky stopped him though,
“Go do something else, I’ll clean. You paid for it, I gotta help out.”

Before Steve could protest, Bucky pushed him out of the kitchen. Steve chuckled and nodded, scratching at the back of his neck while Bucky started cleaning up,
“I’ll go check my emails.” Steve shuffled out of the living room and left Bucky to it. He heard him pad up the stairs and softly shut a door behind him, most likely the office door. Bucky kept himself busy with dishes.

While wiping at grease and sauce, his mind went to roam. After all of their confessing and sharing, it was as if Bucky felt clean. Like this was a whole new start, a whole new chapter of his life has opened up. He was okay with being alone for so long, he forgot what being with someone felt like. And while he could be alone all he needs to be, nothing compares to being with someone, especially someone like Steve. Bucky felt as if any happiness he had experienced before would never compare to how happy he was now. It felt as if all those moments of bliss before hand were nothing, just practice for now.

There were still things he had to worry about. This time with Steve has been nice but it’s going to end soon. The storm has passed and now there wasn’t really any reason for Bucky to stay in the house besides that he just likes being there. On top of that, he had to go back to work soon, seeing as how today was his only day off this week. He still had a student loan payment for this month he had to make and he was a couple hundred dollars short, while he was sure he was going to make it, he was also sure that he wouldn’t be able to afford food for the rest of the month either. Thankfully the loans he had taken out for his Sophomore year of college were almost done being paid back, only a year left in funneling all of his money to the bank, than he can start planning on how to get his own place again. It was weird to think that maybe, if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t be living off the streets for more than a couple more years.

Not knowing how his van turned out after the storm is also killing him. Staying here in Steve’s place has been the best distraction but he needed to face reality. The only place he could have relied on for a place to stay that wasn’t Steve’s house may be ruined from the weather and he had no clue. He suddenly felt very nervous about that, being left a little in the dark. But there wasn’t much he could do right this moment, he’d have to wait until he’s done with this then leave to go check out the van.

When Bucky had finished up and wiped off his hands, he trudged upstairs to Steve’s office. He knocked on the door gently until Steve said for him to come in. Inside, he was sitting comfortably in his wide red leather chair, facing his computer intently. Bucky came up behind him and rested his chin on top of his head,
“I need to go out for a little bit.”

Steve hummed, finishing up a sentence on a long email, then turning the chair to face him,
“Need a ride?”

Bucky’s mind went to the gutters for a quick second but he managed to cover it up with a shrug,
“If you’re not busy. I want to… check out the van.”

Steve nodded and turned back around to finish up whatever he was doing on his computer, “Yeah, definitely. Let me finish up here, I’ll meet you downstairs?”

Bucky nodded then left the room to get his shoes on. He’s not going to lie to himself and say that he wasn’t a little nervous as to what he was going to find when they got there, and there was a part of him that didn’t want to find out at all. But most of all, he just wanted to think about what he was going to do after his stay at Steve’s.

He heard him come down the stairs and stopped next to him to start putting on his shoes as well,
“Did you want to go back?” He asked, a hint of something like nervousness in his voice.

Bucky shrugged and started tying his sneakers, “Depends…”

Steve looked at him while tying his laces,“On what?”

Bucky looked across at him, “If you’d let me stay.” They both stood up straight in sync, never breaking their eye contact with each other. Steve had a small smile on his face and he nodded, “Of course you can. You’re always welcome here, Buck.”

Bucky smiled and nodded shyly, looking down at the floor while reaching for Steve’s hand. Steve held on tightly, leaning forward to press a kiss against the side of his mouth gently. After, he lead him outside and to the truck. The air felt warm and humid, most of the rain from the storm starting to evaporate in the sparse sunlight. In the truck, Bucky watched as the store fronts and apartments bustled with the usual New York energy. No storm was able to shut it down, much to Bucky’s amusement. When things started getting dirtier and less commercialized, Bucky looked away. Instead he averted his attention to Steve, who was humming along with a song on the radio and tapping his hand against the steering wheel to the beat. When he caught Bucky staring, he blushed and adjusted awkwardly in his seat,
“We’re almost there.”

“I know.” Bucky responded but didn’t look away.

When they arrived, Bucky was greeted by giant pools of water and muddy banks of dirt everywhere. It seemed as though all of the garbage from uptown had come down here, littering the streets and covering a lot of the cement below them. As Bucky got up to get out, Steve started unbuckling too. But Bucky looked at him, biting his lip a little,
“Is it alright if I go first?” He wasn't expecting good news. The last thing Bucky needed was breaking down in front of Steve again. Thankfully, Steve seemed to understand and got comfortable in his seat again. Bucky gave him a thankful smile and leaned forward for a quick kiss. Steve’s kiss, as usual, felt reassuring and beautifully mind blowing. Each time, Bucky felt so powerful to get to kiss this man, a little honored to get to be this close to him. When he pulled back he smiled weakly before getting out of the car.

His knees felt like noodles, loose and barely keeping their strength. He was so impossibly nervous to see what was in front of him. Telling by the deep puddles and wet everything, this area got hit pretty hard. Bucky trudged forward and towards the bridge. There was a whirlwind of possibilities going on in his head, all kind of scenarios blinking up every second. When he heard a rush of water, he stopped and looked down. Not very far down, a river of dirty water flowed thickly. He looked up and down the canal, staring as the thick water streamed.

Flooded. It seemed like all of the storm water was being funneled to the river from here. Bucky sat down on the muddy, small bank of grass and watched. At the very top of the stream, directly under the bridge, was the top of the van. The rest of it was now completely submerged. He stared at it, the rusty and chipped paint, feeling as if he were ready to scream. He thought back on all of the memories he had of that van, how it helped him through so much. He mourned for his red sheets and blankets, the makeshift nest that he had made for himself. He grieved over the shade in the summer and the warmth in the winter that it gave him. This must be what it feels like to lose a home.

Bucky heard footsteps behind him and he turned around a little to see Steve standing not too far behind him with his hands in his pockets. He also was looking at the van, then down to Bucky,
“I’m sorry, Buck…”

Bucky wiped at his nose, realizing that he had started crying,
“It was a matter of time.” Even he could hear how defeated he had sounded just then. He turned back to look at the stream again, cursing it’s flow. If only they could have let the stream go somewhere else, if only he hadn’t gotten so attached to the van. If only, so many things. Bucky felt lost in his thoughts, in the constant streams of how he could have made this better until he heard Steve behind him,

“Move in with me.”

Bucky’s brain came to a standstill, and he pivoted around in his spot on the ground to look up at him,
“What?”

Steve cleared his throat and looked around nervously,
“I’m asking you… to move in with me.”

Bucky stared at him, desperately trying to figure out if this was a dream or not.

“You can have the guest bedroom, not like I ever use it. And my couch opens up to a pretty comfortable futon if we ever needed it too. I make enough money to cover the utilities and things, so… that could work…” Steve trailed off, looking more and more unsure by the second.

Bucky shook his head and turned back around to look at the dirty river,
“I have nothing to give you, Steve.”

There was a small moment of silence between them and Bucky could almost hear Steve thinking,
“That’s not true…”

Bucky didn’t know how to feel just then. He wanted to be sad over losing his van, but he was possibly given something better,
“What if you don’t like living with me?”

“I can make do.” He sounded closer, as if he were slowly coming his way over to him. Bucky felt petrified by the thought, by Steve seeing him as vulnerable as he was once again. It was starting to become a theme.

When Steve stopped right next to him, he sat down and propped his elbows up on top of his knees. Bucky nearly whispered out,
“You have to know what you’re asking right now…”

Steve nodded and he reached over to Bucky’s hand,
“I do know… and I would really love to have you in my house, Bucky. Whenever you’re there, it feels better.”

Bucky looked over at him then leaned over to rest his head against his shoulder,
“I can try to give you some money…” He tried to bargain but Steve was having none of it.

“No, save your money. When you finish paying off your loans, you can work on what you need to do next.” He sucked in a breath, nervous and shaky, “Just… shine my shoes or take out the trash sometimes, that’ll make us even.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, still watching the new river flow,
“Okay… but, I don’t want the guest bedroom.”

He felt Steve’s hold onto his hand tightly and when he looked up briefly, he saw him smiling as if he were trying not to,
“The living room isn’t that comfortable.”

Bucky chuckled and shook his head, turning back to look at the top of the van,
“You’re a punk…”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh, both of them sitting there and watching the water flow. It felt as if there were a completely new beginning forming and Bucky had no choice but to let it happen. Steve was officially and completely part of his life now, and there was no way he could or wanted to get away. If someone had come up to him and told him, just a few months back, that he would be where he was now, Bucky wouldn’t believe them. It was as if this were all a dream, happening fast paced and at random twists and turns. But in the end, he felt euphoric and young again, as if this was finally his second chance at his life. Things were bad, and he will most likely never recover from the pain and trauma he’s had to go through, but he will probably never have to deal with it alone anymore. Which was a comforting thought.

x

When Bucky got back to Steve’s- no their- place, he felt as if it were going to be different. As if walking through the threshold as an official member of the house was going to feel heavy and as if a new responsibility was put on him. But instead, he felt exactly the same. He took a quick look around but was disrupted by Mookie meowing and immediately finding them. While he pet and adored her, he couldn’t help but think about the last minute worries.

What if Steve got bored of him? What if they don’t work out? What if Steve wants him to leave and Bucky will have to turn back to the streets? What if, what if, what if… It just kept going. A bright red panic started to bloom in his chest, making him breathe a little harder and space out, lost in his thoughts. He heard Steve, fuzzy in the background, calling out to him. But he was frozen still, his brain running a mile a minute. He shouldn’t have accepted living here, he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t do anything to deserve this beautiful house, or Steve. Steve would surely see that and just when Bucky was going to get comfortable, he was going to get kicked out. There was a small part of him that yelled out how ridiculous he was being, Steve had proven more than once that he wasn’t like that. But nothing could stop anxiety, it’ll always be there and will always linger in the background of his thoughts.

Bucky felt soft hands on his jaw, guiding him to look up. He knew Steve was looking at him, talking to him, but he couldn’t respond. He couldn’t look at him, not while his thoughts told him how unworthy he was of this much support. His eyes darted in every other direction but Steve’s, aware that he was being guided to stand up and walk over to the living room. He felt a blanket shroud his lap and then two weights plopped on top of his thighs. Bucky looked down to see two cats, one fat and grumpy from being jostled, the other desperately budding her head against Bucky’s stomach for attention. Miraculously they stayed put on his lap, as if sensing that he needed their comfort just then. Bucky took in a deep breath and let himself be grounded by their comforting weight. Landlord tucked her paws under herself and flicked her tail around, watching the room like a sentry. Bucky gave in to petting Mookie, feeling her soft grey fur under his fingers. She was purring loud enough for him to hear, playing with his fingers excitedly. Bucky felt another, much heavier weight, settle next to him. When he looked over, it was Steve.

He looked like he was patiently waiting, willing to sit as long as Bucky needed. It was comforting, knowing that he was giving Bucky all the time he needed. So he kept playing with the cats on his lap and breathed slow. Slow, he was more aware of his surroundings. He saw the dusky clouds outside, the sky turning a dark blue hue. He smelled the curry from earlier still in the air, lingering and making everything smell a little spicy. He heard Steve’s even breathing, constant and strong next to him. Bucky sucked in a breath and licked his lips,
“I’m scared.”

Steve nodded and reached for the coffee table where a cup of water was waiting for him, “About what?”

Bucky still couldn’t look at him but accepted the water. He took a sip and relished the feeling of his parch throat getting some relief, “That you’re making a mistake.”

Steve didn’t say anything and let Bucky continue at his own pace. He continued to focus on the cats, how Landlord started to blink her eyes closed and Mookie stretched across his lap. They were the best kind of distraction, idly petting their fur and feeling their warmth,
“I’m not like other people. I have problems. It’s hard for me to trust people and… you deserve better than this.”

When Bucky chanced a quick glance at Steve for his reaction, he felt so guilty for the look on his face. It was as if he had personally offended him and he was hurt from the inside. He diverted his attention back to the cats.

“Bucky... No matter what I do and don’t deserve, I don’t care. You make me happy, happiest I’ve been in a very long time.” Steve started, talking slow and calmly, “I deserve to be happy, right?” It was a low blow and Bucky knew it but he couldn’t help but nod, “Than I deserve you. And we both have problems, Buck. You saw how I get when there are loud noises, I’m like a gun waiting to go off.”

Bucky quickly turned his attention to Steve, “That’s not true.”

Steve quickly countered back, “So is saying that I deserve better than you.”

Bucky wanted to argue but Steve looked so sure, so impossibly confident in what he thinks. He found the courage to not look away,
“So we both have issues. Doesn’t mean you won’t regret letting me live here in a month.”

Steve sighed and shrugged,
“I can’t guarantee that that won’t happen. Neither of us can tell the future. For all we know, you could get sick of me.”

Bucky scoffed, “That won’t happen.”

Steve scowled a little, “That’s not fair, you’re allowed to say that but I can’t.”

Bucky wanted to rebuttal with something witty but couldn’t think of anything. It really wasn’t fair for him to think like that, to be so sure that he would never get sick of being around Steve and not trusting him to feel the same. He instead let out a deep sigh, giving up and letting his hands rest on his lap. At least now he wasn’t having a complete panic attack.

Bucky felt Steve reach for his hand, clutching him tightly and confidently,
“I know you said it’s hard for you to, but I’m going to ask anyway. Try to trust me, alright? I’ve thought about asking you to move in for a while, since I saw how perfect you fit in here when you first stayed over. I considered every possibility I could think of and none of them scared me away from you.”

Bucky looked at their hands and followed the view of Steve’s thick arm up to his face, where Steve was looking so perfectly earnest and hopeful. As if whatever Bucky were to say now will determine the rest of their relationship… actually, after thinking it over, it kind of did. Right now, Steve looked prepared for Bucky to reject him.

Bucky bit his lip and nodded, shyly looking back at their cats,
“I’ll try.”

Steve raised their hands up to kiss at Bucky’s knuckles, making him chuckle and squeeze his hand a little,
“You’re a sap.” Bucky mumbled out, still avoiding his gaze.

He realized then, that there was a lot he would do for Steve. If he asked, Bucky was sure he would walk all across the world for Steve. The man that came from out of nowhere, asking for cranberries at nearly four in the morning. Who persisted and was constant in a life that never promised anything. That no matter what Bucky threw his way, was understanding and earnest. Who just understood him down his core. When Bucky would start having a freak out about something, he knew what he needed. They had only been actually dating for a few months now, knew each other for less than a year, but Bucky felt as if they were always together. Or, his life didn’t really start until he met Steve.

He loved him.

x

Bucky acclimated to living in an actual house pretty quickly. There were times when he would act upon old habits, like hoard newspapers for the winter so he could stuff them under his clothes or eat every single thing he could find in case he doesn’t eat again for a while. There were also times where he adapted so well that Steve would wonder how he ever was homeless. He’d never hand wash plates if he could avoid it, constantly using the dishwasher. Or ask for specific brands of cereal since he didn’t like the generic ones. But overall, he fit into Steve’s life like a perfect puzzle piece and Steve fit into his just the same.

Bucky first had to adjust to Steve’s very sporadic schedule. There would be weeks at a time where Steve would sleep in until noon, usually after a time when he’s worked a long shift. He’d go in to work late and come back at the crack of dawn. He’d still always come by and pick Bucky up from his own late shifts, still looking tired and worn out. Then there were times when Steve didn’t work for a week straight or only a couple times of the week. Those were good days, when Bucky would come back to the house smelling like fresh tomato sauce or deep fried batter. Steve would be comfortably lounging around in comfy clothes and soft looking, eager to cuddle or just be close to Bucky.

Then there were times when he’d be gone for weeks. Those were the worst. Bucky’s anxiety would be going up and down the entire time, worried that he’d never come back. Now that he’s gotten so used to Steve always being around, it would feel as if there was a part of him missing when he was gone for that long. Bucky was never good at the kitchen so he’d mainly eat cereal and hot pockets while he was gone. Without Steve around to remind him that he can use their showers at any time, he’d go a while without doing so and would only get up to do so when he’d actually smell himself. Usually though, Steve would come back not too long after. Bucky would be exceptionally clingy and would do anything he could to reassure to himself that Steve still liked him and still wanted to be around him.

This time though, at the tail end of Fall, Steve had been gone for nearly a month now. Bucky was absolutely losing his mind. He’d managed to find the motivation to clean up the entire house while Steve was away, as well as re-organized the cupboards, cleaned out dirty paint water mugs, and got rid of all the dust bunnies under the couches in the living room. He’d even found time to repair his bike, that had been abandoned in one of Steve’s closets a long time ago. The tires were completely a lost cause but he was able to fix the spokes and near broken chain. He’d have to wait until Steve got back to get new tires.

When it came to the end of the fourth week, Bucky didn’t really do much. He would lay in their bed, go to work, come back and repeat. He’d try going back to some old coping methods, listening to music from his old walkman that had been left to collect dust in his backpack since well before he’d moved in with Steve. He rifled through his collection of tapes and could only listen to a track or two of whichever random one he’d select before he’d lose interest.

After a complete month, he was approached by Natasha while putting away crates of oranges. The market was slightly busier than usual at six in the evening, one of the earliest shifts that Bucky has had in years. Everything felt over-saturated and distant, as if Bucky were watching this in second person. He knew that he heard people walking around him, picking up fruits or vegetables to buy and be merry on their way home, but he ignored it all. Just as they ignored him, without chance.

Natasha looked over the oranges briefly before turning her attention to something else. “He’ll be back soon.” She mumbled out while looking down at her clipboard and counting some fruit.

Bucky looked up from the oranges to her, “You heard from him?” First, hope flared inside him. Than a quick wash of betrayal. That worry was quickly dissolved though when she answered.

“No.” She said, turning on her heel to look over the display if fresh vegetables along the walls, “I have other sources.” She sounded almost omnis.

Bucky’s curiosity was starting to get the best of him, “Can I ask you a question?” He looked over a sad looking orange before putting it at the bottom of his crate. For a brief moment he admired the display of beautifully organized oranges, all bright orange and shiny under the lights.

Natasha shrugged, “Depends.”

Bucky focused on the oranges, “I know you used to work with him. What happened?” After the words came out, he realized how insensitive it was to ask such a personal question and looked over at her in a quick blur of panic. But she appeared calm and collected, as she always did. If she was annoyed by the question, she didn’t show any tells of it.

“Technically it’s classified.” She turned toward him and reached for the edge of her shirt, pulling it up slightly reveal a quick flash of skin. All across her abdomen and hip, were long lines of scars, “You don’t want to know either. Honorably discharged.” Her tone suggested that that was the end of the conversation as it was. “Now I ask you a question.”

Bucky bristled but shrugged, it was only fair, “Alright…”

“What are you doing tonight?”

x

Hanging out with his boss was weird at first. There was still that air of trying to keep it professional, both of them standing around a bar. There was music playing low and the atmosphere was pretty relaxed. The bartender was a big burly man with more muscles than anyone should ever have and an extremely well groomed beard. He radiated lumberjack vibes like nothing Bucky had ever seen before. The bar was designed to look like a cabin, with thick log fixtures and bare brick walls. Overall, it was pretty warm and nice.

Speaking of warm, after Bucky had drank a few glasses of wine that Natasha had suggested, he was feeling impossibly warm. Natasha was also excellent company, to Bucky honest surprise. She was always so calm and collected at work, he would never guess exactly how sassy and witty she was. Bucky was having a good time for the first time since Steve had left.

Which lead to now, where Bucky had finished his fourth glass of wine and was laughing at a funny story that Natasha had said.
“Wait, so, you just left it boiling over?”

“I didn’t just leave it, I turned off the heat. But the entire apartment smelled like burnt cabbage and onions for a month. It wasn’t pleasant, trust me.” She hummed out while sipping at her second glass. She had gone a much slower pace than him, insisting that wine never got her drunk anyway so she took her time to savor them, “My landlord wanted to kick me out but I was her only tenant that paid rent on time so she couldn’t.”

Bucky’s laughter teetered off to a chuckle, leaning back in the padded seat of the booth they had taken over. The wine made him feel comfortable and warm, especially paired with pleasant company. He kind of regrets now not getting to know Natasha soon, especially considering how close she was with Steve.
“How did you end up with the market?” He slurred out slightly.

Natasha laughed lightly at the question, elegantly pushing her long red hair behind her shoulder,
“When I was discharged I didn’t know what to do with myself at first. I was quite literally thrown out of the military in a matter of days so it was a bit of a culture shock. I needed something to focus on. A mutual friend of Steve and I was buying out some apartment buildings in this area and offered me the market as a time killer when he saw it was going out of business. I ended up really enjoying it.” She sipped at her wine, finishing off the last bit of it, “Surprising everyone I knew, I kept at it.”

Bucky nodded and hummed, grinning and resting his elbow on the table to put his chin in his hand, “Is this the same friend who got Steve the ridiculously huge bed?”

Natasha laughed and nodded,
“Yeah. It was actually a bit of a prank. I remember Tony saying directly, ‘A bed to fit your bachelor lifestyle, vast and empty.”

Bucky frowned a little at that, “That’s kind of a dick thing to say.”

Natasha nodded, “Oh, definitely. Tony is a complete cock.”

Bucky laughed out at that, head thrown back in a deep belly laugh, “Oh that’s great. Either way, I gotta send him a gift basket, that bed is amazing.”

Natasha chuckled, “Oh no, don’t do that. He’s got an ego bigger than the Empire State Building, he doesn’t need your help.” She gave him a saucy look, “So I take it you and Steve are using its expanse to good use.”

Bucky blushed and shrugged, “It’s comfortable, that’s what’s mainly important to me.” Despite their months of dating, Steve and Bucky hadn’t gone further than kissing. At first, Bucky was fine with it. He wasn’t at all ready for anything sexual with Steve, and even if he were, he loved the slow pace they were taking. It felt sweet and romantic, not something he’s had much time with before hand. But as time went on and Bucky got to see more of Steve’s skin or muscles, he’s found that heat inside him. A spark he hadn’t felt in years, not like this. It was unbearable at this point, Bucky was starting to get a little desperate, especially since Steve showed no signs of wanting to move forward.

Natasha raised a brow and leaned back in her seat, looking as if she was reading his every movement critically. She nodded and before could say anything, the bartender came up to them and grabbed their now empty wine bottle,
“Last call.”

Bucky shook his head and pushed his glass towards him, Natasha doing the same. Bucky hadn’t realized it before but they were one of the last few people left in the bar. He sighed and stretched his arms far above his head, feeling the base of his back pop and crack from sitting for so long,
“I guess I should start heading back. I’m a long walk.”

Natasha hummed and shook her head,
“I can give you a ride, my car’s back at the store though.”

Bucky smiled bashfully and nodded,
“Okay.”

The walk back to the market was fairly uneventful, both of them just chatting and taking their time. Bucky sobered up a bit more while Natasha seemed completely collected. Her car was a sleek black muscle car, a few years old but kept in incredible condition. Bucky chuckled to himself when he slid into the passenger seat, looking around at the clean interior,
“What’s with you army folk and black cars?”

Natasha turned to Bucky after getting in herself, shooting him a pointed look that definitely had some history to it,
“He copied me.”

Bucky swallowed thickly and let out a little bit of a nervous chuckle before buckling in.

x

Bucky got out of the car when they had arrived and leaned against the door to look into the window,
“Thanks for this, Natasha. I needed it.”

Natasha smiled, warmer than he’s ever seen before,
“I know. Now get inside, it’s getting cold.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, waving goodbye before going to his front door. Just as he was about to get to the porch, he turned around and looked at Natasha,
“What are you doing next friday?”

Natasha looked at him and shrugged, “Nothing.”

Bucky bit his lip a little and turned to look at her better, stuffing his hands into his pockets nervously. Making friends was hard.
“We could do this again? After work again..”

Natasha smiled and nodded, “Sure.”

Bucky smiled and nodded, “Alright. Well, bye.” He waved a little and watched as Natasha zipped away after waving back.

Bucky watched until she turned off the street, than turned around again for the door. He sighed while digging out his key, the only one he has, to get inside. He looked around at the dark house and let out another deep sigh. Even the cats were asleep, not greeted by the usual meows of hello. After glancing at the clock in the living room he realized it was about four in the morning. So Bucky trudged through the dark house to the bedroom. He peeled off his clothes while trying desperately to not think about how he was going to sleep alone.

After surrounding himself with enough pillows to take up most of the bed, he managed to fall asleep.

Only to be woken up a few hours later by the bed dipping next to him. He pried his eyes open and saw Steve, looking completely exhausted and gloomy. Bucky just felt so happy to see him after so long. The moment the blanket was pulled up to his chin, Bucky clung onto him.

Steve’s arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him close, so close that Bucky felt every single dip and curve of his body. He buried his head under Steve’s chin and not so secretly took in a big breath of his smell. How he desperately missed that smell. He realized soon after that Steve was mumbling, repeatedly,
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head and tightened his hold on him,
“You’re back.” He stated, immediately forgiving Steve for taking so long.

He felt more than heard the sob that ripped out from Steve. He wanted to pull back to look at him but instead stayed as close as humanly possible, “Stevie…” He whispered out comfortingly.

“Bucky.” Steve choked out, filled to the brim with emotion. He sounded as if he were in pain, and from the month he’s probably had, he most likely was. Bucky just held him while he sobbed. It was the horrible times like this that Bucky wishes he could just pull Steve from his pain, kiss him better and comfort him like Steve could for him. For now, he’ll just keep his hold tight.

“Tell me how to help.” Bucky breathed out against Steve’s collarbone.

Steve just shook his head, “This is good.”

Bucky nodded and let Steve cry out the hurt he was in. The words he wanted to say just then were at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell him in hopes that it would help ease his pain, a reminder that he is loved. That Bucky will always be here for him. He was dying to say it, to tell him. To make it better any way he could. Instead, he peppered kisses along his collarbone and started humming an aimless tune for Steve to latch onto instead. It will hopefully be enough. The time to tell him will come, Bucky doesn’t doubt that. But right now isn’t that time, despite desperately thinking about it in the month he had been gone and the pain he was in. Soon.

x

The next couple of days was tense. Steve was tight as a drawn bow the entire time, walking stiffly and constantly alert. Bucky was worried, to say the least. He had never seen him this badly withdrawn after a mission. The night that Steve cried in his arms was the last time he had really shown Bucky any kind of emotion. Now he was cold and reclusive, constantly in his office and away from Bucky in general. He’d try to entice him out of the room, cooking whatever he could actually manage or rent movies from the redbox near the market. But nothing could get him out, staying shut in until it was dark and he climbed in bed with Bucky. He would cling onto Steve, desperate for some kind of affection but Steve would just weakly wrap an arm around him before promptly falling asleep.

Their conversations were stilted and clipped, Steve not too enthusiastic to communicate at all. Bucky was desperate to hear his voice like how it used to be, full of adoration and warmth. After about a week of this new behavior, Bucky put his foot down. The day they both had off, Bucky stopped Steve from getting into his office by standing directly infront of it before he could get inside.

“Bucky.” Steve said in a warning tone, but Bucky wouldn’t back down.

“Talk to me.” He didn’t leave room for argument in his voice. But instead, Steve glared at him. It, admittedly, sent a shiver of ice down his back but he wouldn’t give in. “Please.”

They were in the middle of a stare down, Bucky’s confidence that he could help starting to wane. But Steve relented, looking away and sucking in a deep breath,
“What do you want me to say, Bucky?”

Bucky shrugged and stepped to the side slightly to catch his eyes again,
“Anything. You’ve been avoiding me for a week, Steve.”

Steve looked over Bucky’s face, reading his desperate eyes and lines of worry across his brow. Bucky felt as if his skin were to crawl off his bones any second from how distant Steve looked. It was as if this were a completely different person standing in front of him, standing at attention and ready for a fight. It hurt Bucky to think that in their own house he would be this alert but couldn’t blame him, not after the first night he came back. But that didn’t mean he would allow Steve to shut himself away. He knew how easy it was to do so, to hide away from the feelings and fears the would bite at his heels with every step he took. But just as Steve had helped pull him out of his depth of depression, Bucky would try to do the same.

And then, as if his strings had been cut that were holding him up, Steve sagged and let out a breath that he had been holding. He rubbed at his eyes and ran his hands down his face,
“I’m going to make coffee.” It was an invitation, despite it sounding less like so.

Steve turned on his heels and nearly stomped his way downstairs. The moment that he was down the flight, Bucky let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He ran his hands through his long hair, pulling at it slightly just to ground himself a little. This whole situation felt surreal, he didn’t know what to do. Steve was obviously in pain and needed his help but the most he could do is try to convince him to talk. After taking in a moment of much needed gathering, he padded down the stairs to the kitchen.

Steve was gripping the edge of the counter facing the coffee, watching as each drip fell to the bottom of the pot,
“It’s all confidential. What I can tell you is that I had to kill a lot of people.” His knuckles turned white, Bucky realized from the entrance of the kitchen, frozen in place, “I get that it’s part of my job. But… it’s never easy.”

Bucky took a careful step forward, closer to him. Steve stayed still and didn’t really show that he didn’t want him any closer. So he kept going, until he was standing next to him. Gently, he rested a hand on top of one of Steve’s white knuckled fists. He really didn’t know what to say to make this situation better. Nervously, Bucky started chewing on his lip. He had to say something…
“It’s okay to feel hurt.”

Steve didn’t show any signs of acknowledging him, still staring at the slowly filling pot, “I don’t deserve to feel hurt. I ruined people’s families, they’re in so much more pain than me and it’s my fault. I…” He stopped.

Bucky leaned forward to press his forehead against his bicep, feeling how tense he was under his long sleeve,
“You did what you had to do.”

Steve turned to look at Bucky, pain etched across his face,
“I’m a murderer, Bucky. How can you stand me? How can you try to comfort me, still be near me, when I’ve killed people? I have blood on my hands. More than you could ever imagine.”

Bucky sucked in a breath. He hadn’t thought of it like that. He always just thought that Steve was brave for what he’s done. Bucky looked across his face, his tightly knit brow and sad eyes. His skin was pale and slightly chalky looking from him not taking care of himself. Right now he only looked like a shadow of a man he used to know, but that didn’t mean that he loved him any less. That at least comforted Bucky, but Steve didn’t know that. And there had to be a way that he could convey that devotion.
“I know what I was getting into when I started dating you, Steve.” He looked down at their hands, one tight and the other lax with hopeful comfort, “I know who you are. I know what you do. That doesn’t make me lo-” He took in a deep breath, “That doesn’t make me want to be with you any less.”

There air was thick and silent between them. Bucky knew he almost said it, knew that it was really close. Steve was staring at him, blank expression and reading him. Bucky felt suddenly very exposed under the stare, turning his head and scratching at the back of his neck,
“You deserve to be happy, Steve.” Bucky mumbled out, a reminder from months ago, and then tucked his hands into his pockets. He was clearly fidgeting, desperately trying to keep control of the situation.

Steve stepped forward and Bucky turned his attention straight to him. Looking at him now, at some point between what he said and when he looked away, Steve’s face completely shifted. He reached up and pressed a hand gently against his jaw. His eyes looked sad but also appreciative, as if hearing that had satisfied something. His other hand wrapped around behind him, Steve pulling him into a hug slowly. Bucky let himself be pushed, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. Steve rested his forehead against his and let out a breath,
“You’re amazing.”

Bucky shrugged a little, “I’m alright to have around.”

Steve chuckled lightly at that. God, what a beautiful sound. And hopefully, Bucky really really hoped, that wouldn’t be the only laugh from him any time soon. He really got to look at him, and saw so much. Steve’s long lashes, his freckles. His stubble, since he skipped shaving that morning. He didn’t look as exhausted as he had nearly a few days ago. There was no way that Bucky could stop himself from kissing him. And it was their first real kiss in almost a month, now that Bucky thought about it. Steve seemed to completely light up next to him, turning his face to deepen their exchange. Bucky let himself be pulled in tight and opened up to Steve when he felt his slick tongue against his lips. Bucky couldn’t stop himself from moaning into the kiss, the taste. He’d missed Steve with every fiber in his being. His fingers felt desperate and lonely, aching to touch as much of him as he could.

Bucky’s hands slowly traveled up Steve’s sides, then behind his back. He dug his nails down onto Steve’s back and pulled him in closer, pulling away from the kiss to bite at Steve’s beautifully plump bottom lip. He was panting when Bucky pulled back completely, scratching his nails down his back. Steve slid his hand from his jaw to his long hair, pulling it out of the small tie that Bucky managed earlier. When he grabbed onto a thick lock of hair and just kept his hand there, Bucky felt as if he were going to explode under him. It was a deull pressure on the back of his skull, secure and heavy. He loved the feeling, making him lean back forward for another kiss. This time Steve was the one to let out a soft groan into the kiss, making Bucky shift his hips against his gently.

Bucky was pretty surprised to feel that Steve was hard against him. It gave him a little courage, rolling his hips again against his. The arm that was around his waist tightened and his hand pushed him forward some, making their press with each other lips tighter and so much more hungry. Bucky had no choice but to just clutch onto the bottom of Steve’s shirt while he kissed him, deep and mesmerizing. It felt absolutely amazing.

The coffee maker started beeping not too far from them, pulling Steve out of whatever stupor he was in. He pulled back from the kiss and stared at Bucky, who slowly opened his eyes again to look at him. Steve’s pale skin was flushed pink and he was panting hotly against his lips. Bucky felt his arm loosen around his waist, making him panic a little but Steve just shifted to turn off the machine. His body stretched while he was turned, his shirt taut against his skin and showing off how tight everything was underneath.

Bucky gripped onto Steve’s hips and swayed his own hips against his tightly. Steve froze mid way back, looking at him hotly. Bucky wasn’t going to be ignored anymore any time soon. Not even for the machine. Steve grinned when he saw his diligence against his face, resting both his hands against Bucky’s jaw,
“What’s with that face?”

“Keep kissing me.” Bucky nearly commanded, but his eyes were more pleading.

Steve’s grin turned a little dark, “Oh? You want more kisses?”

Bucky nodded and started to pout without really realizing, his lip bright red and slick from their earlier exchange. Steve’s lips were no better, Bucky really appreciating the handy work of his biting, the way his bottom lip was the brightest and boldest pink he’d ever seen it, even now Bucky want to bite it some more. Something about seeing it so bright from his own manipulation of getting Steve to pant and groan against him made him feel as if he needed to keep going. To get Steve as close to his own pleasure as he could.

Steve moved his hands to guide his head to the side and attached his lips to the side of Bucky’s neck, “Like this?” He kept pressing a random melody of soft or sharp kisses against the skin on Bucky’s neck, sometimes even sucking down bright red marks. Bucky’s fingers tightened before searching for the edge of his shirt to slide his hands under the thin fabric.

Bucky gasped and nodded quickly, Steve maneuvering both of them so that Bucky was pressed against the counter. Bucky let himself get completely ravished, even encouraging it by sliding his hands into Steve’s hair and scratching his nails down the short trim. He felt Steve hum against his skin, his bulging cock strained back by track pants, Bucky felt everything. A hand slid down Steve’s back to his front, where his hand gently stroked the length of Steve’s dick. In response, he shuddered and sucked in a breath. The sound made Bucky shiver, bite his lip and squeeze the obvious shape. Steve pulled at Bucky’s hair gently, another sharp gasp leaving his lips in a hot puff against Bucky’s wet skin. Despite himself, Steve groaned out in warning,
“Bucky… wait…”

The words snapped Bucky out of his stupor, now anxious and filled with worry. Had he pushed too far?
“I’m sorry..”

Steve stood up straight and shook his head, looking at Bucky with iris blown eyes,
“You didn’t do anything wrong. That felt so fucking good.” As if to reassure him, he pressed a kiss against his lips quickly, “I just… I have something to tell you.”

Bucky swallowed nervously and nodded, moving his hand from Steve’s hardness to his hip, “Okay..”

Steve took in a breath and looked away from him, his face slowly starting to blush, “I’ve… never done this. Before.”

Bucky froze completely. Sure, he’s picked up a few clues about it but never actually believed it. How could Steve never had sex before, the guy was a mortal god. Bucky looked over his face to see if he was joking but he looked completely serious. He swallowed again, his throat suddenly dry as bone. Knowing that Steve had never done this before, that Bucky got to be the first person to see him like this and to also be the first person to get to make Steve feel good like this it… well, it turned him on even more. He felt all his blood rushing to his cock, getting thicker by the second,
“Nothing?”

Steve chanced a quick look at Bucky, before looking away again shyly. He shook his head.

Bucky took in a deep breath to calm himself down and rose his hands up to rest at the back of Steve’s neck, “Than we go your pace.” He smiled reassuringly and leaned forward for a kiss, honey smooth and sweet, “We can stop if it’s too much.”

Steve quickly shook his head, cleared his throat and shifted his hands to rest at Bucky’s hips,
“No, I want to keep going. Can we just go slow, maybe..?”

Bucky nodded and pressed another kiss against his lips,
“How about then, we go upstairs and back to our bedroom. You lay down,” Bucky leaned forward and pressed his lips slightly against his ear, “And I show you how slow I can go.”

He had never seen Steve move so fast before.

x

Bucky had never thought, in a million years, that he would be in this position. Well, that’s not true. He has been in this exact position before, tucked between legs with a beautifully hard cock in view, begging to be sucked and fondled. What he felt would happen is that it would be Steve’s. Sure, he’s thought about it. Thought about it a lot, actually. While in the shower, while changing, while Steve was gone. He’s thought about finally getting to see and touch Steve and get to bring him pleasure. But did he think it would ever happen? Not necessarily.

Steve was laying on his back, up on his elbows while Bucky ghosted his lips over the front of his sweatpants. Bucky was watching him, and he was in turn being watched.

Steve looked incredibly nervous. As if any wrong move could break whatever fragile moment that they had. His face was a little pinched and his cheeks were red. But he also looked so incredibly desperate, like Bucky was the only person who could give him what he wants. It made him climb up his body, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. Steve immediately sprung to life, bringing a hand up to rest at the back of his neck. Bucky hummed, appreciating the weight and the touch, biting at his lip
“Tell me if you want me to stop. I’ll stop.” He pressed another kiss, adoring and savory, “No matter what.”

Steve swallowed thickly and nodded, his eyes still glazed over with lust and something akin to love, staring at him hotly. Bucky smirked and kissed back down his neck. Steve’s hand moved from the back of his neck to behind his head, fingers threaded through the tresses. Bucky loved it, loved that Steve wanted to keep touching him and a constant thread between them while Bucky’s hands slid down to his hips. The edge of his fingers slid under the waistband, curving to scratch his nails across the sharp cut of his hips. Bucky curiously let his fingers roam around briefly, feeling the stretches of thick muscle and skin. Steve wanted him to go slow and that was something he can do. He would gladly take him apart piece by piece, find out everything he could about Steve. Where he like to be touched, what noises he made when he liked something, if he prefered rough or gentle, so many things. He loved finding out these details, that was almost the most fun for Bucky. When he could learn all the tricks and ticks on a person.

Steve leaned back and Bucky followed, his mouth still attached to his neck like a lifeline. By now he had gotten a pretty good feel for Steve’s sides, the skin warm and smooth under his touch. He’d seen Steve topless a handful of times, the inevitable of living with a person. But he never would have imagine just how smooth his skin was. There was a light coating of hair on his chest but it just glided across, smooth to the touch. Bucky felt Steve move and he leaned back, watching eagerly as he seemed to have gotten the courage to take off his shirt. Bucky could have dropped dead just than and he would have died a very happy man. If Steve looked good across the room, he looked like a god up close. There was small patches of freckles scattered around his shoulders and collarbones, his skin pale and stretched tightly over muscle. Which, there was a lot of.

Bucky managed to somehow, with the strength of gods, tear his eyes away from his chest to his eyes. They were watching each other as Bucky leaned down slow, pressing a cautious kiss just under his collarbone. Steve didn’t seem to mind, so he pressed another much bolder one lower. When Bucky hadn’t read or felt any signs to stop, he kissed down the valley of abs and ripples of serratus. Steve was breathing heavy under him, his hand never really leaving from the back of his head. Bucky appreciated that. His fingers would clench or unclench, but that was about it.

After sufficiently kissing and nipping nearly all of the skin that Bucky could find, he moved down. Steve seemed to like both treatments, melting under his from the pepper of kisses he received and gasping at the teasing bites. Which was something that Bucky utilized while teasing him to complete hardness. Bucky’s hand ran up and down the length of Steve’s cock, listening to him curiously. Languidly, he leaned forward and licked a long stripe of the fabric of the sweatpants, leaving behind a dark grey trail of saliva. Steve moaned and bucked his hips forward a little, gripping onto Bucky’s hair gently. He closed his eyes and imagined what it was going to look like for a quick moment. It felt thick, a pretty decent length too. It was probably a pretty peachy pink like the rest of Steve when he blushes, hot to the touch and begging to be licked.

He took in a breath and sat up in between Steve’s legs. He started pulling at his pants but was stopped by Steve, holding onto the waistband and raising a brow at him. Bucky felt a quick shot of nervousness but it didn’t look like there was any sign he wanted to stop. Instead he looked at Bucky quizzically,
“I showed you mine, show me yours.”

Bucky bit his lip a little and nodded shyly, reaching for his own shirt and lifting it up over his head. He wasn’t necessarily self conscious, he was aware how looked. At least, that was when he was in college. Then he had time to work out and sometimes actually eat healthy, when he’d try for it. But this is the body of a person who has been on the streets, hurt and left abandoned. There were a few scares on his stomach from cuts that didn’t heal right but everything was tight. Instantly, he felt warm hands on his hips, hands stretched wide to try at holding as much of his hips as he could. Bucky grinned after successfully tossing the shirt across the room, letting Steve feel like he wanted to.

After sharing a hot look with each other, Bucky leaned forward to kiss him as he started pushing at Steve’s pants. After maneuvering around a little, they managed to slide them off without really moving away from their kiss all that much. Bucky moved back down to look at his reward for his efforts. Sitting in dark navy briefs, was a painfully hard looking cock. He grinned and dragged his hand up and down the length, admiring it’s girth. Steve sucked in a breath and Bucky was getting addicted to the sound. He watched as his abdomen clenched, pulling and stretching with every eager buck of Steve’s hips.

Bucky moved to drag both of his hands up to Steve’s hips then down to the side of his legs. All while, he licked and rubbed his lips against his length. After scratching at the delicate skin near the back of his knees, he reached up to start at pulling them down. He watched Steve when he pulled it down enough to get a hold of his dick. Steve took in a sharp inhale through his nose, his eyes flicking down to his hand. Bucky gave it a tentative stroke, moving his hand slowly and stopping just under the head. There was something that sounded like a deep whimper, low and teetering off as a sigh.

Bucky desperately craved more sounds like that. He pulled his hand back and licked a long stripe up his palm, keeping complete eye contact with him when he reached back for it. Steve’s brow knight together slightly, pinching at the middle while he struggled not to look down. Bucky grinned and leaned down to press his lips to the side of his shaft while his hand worked up and down. He kept twisting his wrist at the top, just stopping under the tip and watching as it got red with attention. Bucky leaned forward again, pressing a much sloppier kiss against the tip. Steve bucked up a little and Bucky looked up,
“Keep still, Stevie. I’ll get to you, I promise.”

Steve groaned and his hips pressed flat against the mattress. Bucky smirked and stroked the tip of his cock, rubbing and circling his fist around it tightly. Bucky specifically then made a tight ring with his thumb and index finger before leaning forward and taking just the tip inside of his mouth with his fingers against his lips. When his mouth reached the end of the hot tip, he stopped moving and his hand kept going.

Steve’s hand moved from his side to his shoulder blade, clutching at his skin and exhaling sharply. Bucky licked around the head, thick and flat tongued across the salty skin. The taste was bitter and didn’t really appeal to him but the reaction that he got from the teasing made it all worth it. Steve clenched a little under him, his stomach tight and showing off the beautiful display of skin and muscle. Bucky relented after a short moment of torture, sliding the rest of the way down slowly. His hands laid flat against his hips, fascinated by the warmth and solid weight under him. After flattening his tongue and laxing his throat, a bit, he was able to take Steve down to the hilt. Now that he’s actually got the muscle in his mouth completely, he reached down and pressed a hand against his own straining erection. It was so fucking thick, he almost couldn’t breath around it and he desperately wanted it inside of him. He doesn’t even remember that last time he had taken it, topping in the last couple of relationships he’s been in but he would for this dick. He pulled back after a few seconds, pulling off completely and licking at the head. Steve had at some point thrown his arm over his eyes, panting heavily and apparently clutching at his hair. Bucky hadn’t even realized, so mesmerized by the feeling, only coming back and noticing when he felt a tug at his hair pulling him back. Bucky watched it lay flat and thick against Steve’s perfect abdomen.

“I don’t want to come yet.” Steve admitted, his voice shaky and gravelly.

Bucky grinned and looked up, sliding up to kiss Steve’s lips, “I want you to.”

Steve actually whimpered under him, his hand shooting down from Bucky’s hair to grab a tight hold on the bottom of his cock. Bucky watched the entire moment smugly. Bucky chucked and shifted to straddle his lap, his legs folded next to his thighs. He leaned forward again and kissed Steve. It was lazy but full of so much passion, completely stealing all of Bucky’s attention. His hand that was on his own cock stopped moving, instead focusing completely on the kiss.

When Bucky pulled back for air, he got a good look at him. He was breathing heavy and still covering his eyes with his arm. Bucky clicked his tongue and pulled his arm away, getting a good look at his blown out and hooded eyes. If it were at all possible, his cock would be even harder right now in his pants from the sight. He looked so completely debauched, his cheekbones dusted with a red blush and a sheen of sweat across his forehead. And that was just after a couple seconds of deep throat, Bucky couldn’t wait for when he actually sucks him off.

“Fuck Steve, you are so gorgeous.” Bucky surprised himself by blurting out, but didn’t regret a word of it for how brightly Steve blushed. His eyes shifted from him to the side, his thick hands moving to Bucky’s waist and clutching tightly. Bucky grinned and sat up on Steve’s lap completely, looking down at his work. He watched as Steve moved his hands to the front of his jeans, his fingers a little shaky as they started unbuttoning. Bucky put his hands over Steve’s wrists loosely, steadying his hands as he continued undoing his pants. He started chewing at his bottom lip as he watched Steve’s thick hands push the edge of his jeans down and exposed his boxers underneath, the release in tension over his straining cock unbelievably satisfying. He let out a soft sigh at the feeling, but quickly inhaled when he felt those warm finger start traveling under his boxers.

Steve reached for his cock and pulled it out of his black boxers to start stroking it tenderly. Bucky’s back tightened into a curved line, watching as Steve rubbed him. His thumb swiped across the head of his cock, taking some of his drippy pre-come to make it easier to stroke him. His grip tightened on his wrists, his nails digging down into his skin. Bucky’s eyes flicked up from the view up to Steve, who had been watching him the entire time. His stomach flipped and tightened, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Steve’s grip was perfectly even, big enough to reach almost his entire length. Bucky’s thought about those hands in this situation before, always wondered how it would look to have those thick, calloused hands on him.

“Steve…” He whispered out, Steve spring to sit up and kiss Bucky. His hand kept moving back and forth while they kissed, deep and possessive.

“Say it again?” He asked against his lips, his free hand wrapping around Bucky’s back to pull him in closer, “Say my name again?”

Bucky grinned against his lips, ready to already oblige in his request but was put to a short halt when he felt Steve squeeze the base of his cock and dragged the grip up, pinching gently at the top. Bucky gasped, instinctively murmuring out again, “Steve.”

Steve grinned into the kiss and started to guide Bucky to lay onto his back, fitting himself between his spread legs. He kept his legs up and around his waist, keeping him close while he rolled his hips into his grip. It felt so impossibly amazing, everything he’s ever thought about and more. Steve was fantastically thick, a heavy weight on top of him. He felt his cock next to his and Bucky desperately wanted to see just how much closer he could take him again, this time to the point where Steve wouldn’t avoid his peak.

Regrettably, Steve let go of his grip on Bucky to start at pulling down the rest of his clothes. He put his feet down to lift his hips and let Steve take them off, wiggling his hips for his attention again. Steve chuckled and leaned forward for a kiss. While sharing their exchange, Steve reached for the bedside table next to them. He fumbled around a bit and when Bucky was going to ask if he needed help, he came back with a small bottle of lube. When Bucky got a glimpse of it and how it seemed to be nearly empty, he pulled back from the kiss and raised an eyebrow curiously,
“Been busy?”

Steve’s chuckle was edged with nerves, popping open the cap and soaking a few fingers in it. Steve looked from his fingers up to Bucky, suddenly nervous looking and stiff,
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Bucky grinned and licked his lips,
“You’re doing fine,” He wiggled his hips a little, his cock still thick between his legs, “More than fine.” He breathed out.

Steve smiled a little lopsidedly, drawing some more confidence and first reached Bucky’s cock. He gave a few experimental tugs, looking at Bucky, “Tell me how to do this?”

Bucky swallowed and nodded, reaching up for the back of Steve’s neck, “Get me wet, Stevie.” he mumbled out. Steve watched him, moving his hand from his cock to his puckered hole. Bucky let out a sharp exhale from the feeling, shifting his hips a little to feel those thick fingers brush against his hole again, “One at a time, slow...”

Steve nodded and watched Bucky as he pressed the tip of his index inside. Bucky gasped, nails digging down onto his skin. He swallowed a little and gave him a watery grin. It didn’t hurt too much, but it was more so the very idea that Steve was about to finger him. To feel those thick fingers inside of him is going to feel so amazing, he was sure he could come from just that. In fact, that’s what he was going to aim for, he decided. Bucky shifted his hips a little in hopes that more would slide in, nodding slightly,
“More, it’s okay..”

Steve nodded and pressed further inside until he was nearly knuckle deep. After some more coaxing and time, Steve managed to get two other fingers in, making Bucky feel comfortably full. Bucky was twisting and meeting Steve’s small thrusts of his fingers, kissing him fanatically. With a final shift, Steve grazed against that sensitive spot inside that had Bucky jumping under him,
“Fuck! Do that again, fuck..” He panted out, tossing his head back against the pillow with a bellowing moan as Steve continued to press and rub against his prostate.

When Steve went to reach for his now drooling cock, Bucky pushed his hands away and shook his head,
“No, just your hand. I wanna see…” He rolled his hips, moaning at the stretch of his fingers. It had been so long, it felt absolutely amazing. All of it, the stretch and pull. The light burn, the surge of electricity that zaps through his body with each brush against his prostate. He knew he wouldn’t last long, “Little more. Oh my god…” He panted, feeling Steve starting to press his pinky inside with the rest of his fingers. Bucky opened his eyes and looked at Steve, who was looking back. His mouth was open slightly, puffs of air coming out hotly. He looked about as wrecked Bucky was sure he looked.

When Steve managed to slide the other digit inside, Bucky hummed out a moan and slid his hands into Steve’s golden hair,
“I’m gonna come..” He finally panted out, Steve absolutely relentless on pleasuring his prostate.

Bucky was tight like a bowstring, ready to snap at any second. Heat coiled across his belly and the pressure built up until he felt it start to spill. He kept his eyes on Steve as best as he could while he came, thick globs of come spurting out in ropes. It had been one of his hardest orgasms in his life, and that was just from his fingers.

Bucky slumped down onto the bed and was left panting. Steve pulled his fingers out and wiped them against the bed, then reached down for his own aching cock. Bucky watched lazily as Steve stroked himself for a moment then grinned,
“Come in my mouth.”

Steve sucked in a breath and nodded, moving to kneel next to Bucky’s head. Bucky watched as Steve jerked off, his cock thick and pretty. It was so close, he could smell the heady scent of him and watched it got redder and redder. He looked up then at Steve, licking his lips and still grinning smugly, “Come for me, Stevie..”

“Oh my god, Bucky.” Steve curled forward, his fist moving faster and squeezing tighter. What seemed to be the finishing blow was Bucky opening his mouth for him, pink tongue rolling out a little. Steve pressed the head of his cock against the soft muscle, his come spurting first across his cheek then into his mouth.

Bucky closed his mouth and swallowed, still not completely into the taste but Steve seemed to love it. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he had come. The way his entire body seemed to shake and tense up afterward, his skin hot and sweaty. But most of all, the best view, was his face. At first his entire expression was pinched then, when he finally climaxed, everything melted. His eyebrows curved up and his mouth hung open, his plush pink lips spread in a loose ‘Oh’ shape. It was absolutely beautiful. Bucky licked his lips for show and reached up for the some that went across his cheek, “Little help?”

Steve chuckled, though it was breathy from panting, and reached forward to gather the rest of his come. Bucky took his hand and pushed his fingers into his mouth, essentially treating them as he had with Steve’s cock earlier. Steve groaned and pulled his hand back after a moment of enjoying the show, moving around to lay down next to Bucky. At first they simply looked at each other before Bucky leaned in for a kiss. It was delicate, fragile like glass between them. There was so much it was trying to tell each other, Bucky desperate for Steve to know how he felt right then while they laid together, in bliss. But he was much too shy yet, not sure if even now was a good time. Instead he cleared his throat a little and smiled shyly,
“Can you get me a hand towel from the bathroom? Please?” The slickness between his legs was starting to gross him out.

Steve nodded and got up, albeit he seemed to be on shaky legs. That made Bucky proud. While he waited for Steve to come back, he shifted around to lay his head on the pillows. When Steve got back and they both cleaned up a little, they got under the covers and lazily wrapped each other up in their arms. Bucky, in his usual favorite spot, slid his head under Steve’s jaw. He felt him run a hand up and down his back, just the tips of his fingers brushing against his skin. It left behind a wave of goosebumps, shivers despite how warm Bucky was. He felt so impossibly comfortable. His body was still buzzing from the absolutely mind obliterating orgasm, fuzzy around the edges and distant. But at the same time, he was completely aware of everything. He felt nearly every hair from Steve’s legs, the different length of bitten fingernails from Steve’s hands, the pillowtop under them, everything. It felt surreal. He felt so adored and so relaxed, there wasn’t a single thing that could ruin this moment.

Steve swallowed nervously above him, but Bucky was a little too lazy to see what was going on. He’d trust that Steve would tell him. What he wasn’t expecting for him to cautiously croak out,
“I’m in love with you.”

There was a short moment of stillness between them, where Bucky processed that. Steve loved him? Even better, that meant that Steve loved him back? Bucky smiled and pressed further into his embrace, feeling bubbly and light. Steve loved him. He loved him! God, Bucky felt as if he were invincible. At that moment, Bucky thought about how everything that had happened in his life lead to this moment. The hardships, the trouble. The pain, the abandonment. Everything he had to do, the sacrifices he had to make, it all lead to now. Bucky took in a breath, and felt safe. This was it. This was his time to say it.
“I-”

“You don’t have to say it back if you don-I just.. It’s been on my mind and after that- not that I’m only saying it because of.. well, I mean-”

Bucky laughed against his neck, pressing a kiss against the warm skin and shaking his head,
“You nerd, I love you too.”

Steve stopped whatever ramble he was on and paused for a moment, before letting out a breath, “You do?”

Bucky nodded, tightening his arms around him.

Steve sighed out, “You love me back.”

Bucky knew, then, he was going to be alright. Bad things have happened, he has the scars to prove them. But now, now the good is here. The good times of being adored, respected, even loved. He never thought this time would come for him. Bucky thought he was simply trapped in an endless loop of disappointment and cold harsh reality. But here he was, comfortable and the happiest he’s ever been in his entire life. Here he was, in the arms of Steve Rogers, who loves him. Bucky hopes that it will never end, that this will be how they are for maybe the rest of their lives, but if things were to shatter between them, nothing will ruin this moment for him. Nothing will tarnish or or mar this fragile memory, of his first real love. Because true love is worth the pain, the risks, and the journey. Love is kind, warm, and inevitable. It just took time, and Bucky was glad he waited.

Because Steve loves him back.

Chapter Text

Conclusions had always felt so drawn out, in Bucky’s opinion. Sometimes things took forever to end and were painful, traumatizing, or just plain boring. But when things did start to come to an end, Bucky would sit back and think about the things that have happened to get him where he was was then. This hasn’t happened much anymore, not since things got better. It had been four years since he started living with Steve and he’s grown to be a better, healthier person over that time. While he sat on their bed, he thought idly about it. It took a while for him to warm up to Steve completely, took even longer for him to accept that Steve really did love him. Mookie got older, Landlord got fatter, but they were both healthy and so happy to have each other. It was similar to how their humans were too, just happy.

There were rough times, moments when Bucky felt alone and defeated. A time that Bucky could immediately recall had been when Steve was away for over two weeks with no communication from his end. It had absolutely broken Bucky apart. At the time, he simply kind of excused it. He tucked it away, all the feelings of being alone and left in the dark for months. When Steve came home, he had let himself feel it all again. The pain, the betrayal, the longing and loneliness. Steve had stood at the door to their bedroom and Bucky kept himself wrapped up in their blankets while pointedly ignoring him. Steve had sighed and sat down on the bed next to him. They argued briefly, short and sniped, which caused Bucky to give him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day. Probably not the type of reception that Steve had been hoping for, but Bucky was hurt. He didn’t want to forgive him so easily, not yet.

Though that time was dark and hurt like a flesh wound, there had been a lighter side to it. Being that if there was ever something Steve hated, it was being told he couldn’t do something. Not even a week after getting back, he left to go back to his headquarters. Bucky had wanted to argue but saw how serious Steve was. He knew that something was happening so he just nodded. He would never tell Steve what he could and couldn’t do, just wait patiently for him to come back. Steve wasn’t gone for long, only a couple of hours passed before he came back with a box in his hands. Bucky had been reading in the kitchen, eating some fancy yogurt when Steve came in and plopped the box on the kitchen counter.
“I resigned.”

Bucky looked from the box to Steve, spoon hanging midair to his mouth, “What?”

Steve took in a deep breath and recollected himself, “I quit my job.”

There was a tense moment of silence between them before Bucky dropped his spoon and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck to kiss him harder than he’s ever kissed him before. Steve instantly wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him in close, which made him hang off of the island chair precariously. No matter the situation, Steve would never let him fall. Bucky pulled back,
“Really? How, why, why didn’t you tell me you were going to- I-”

Steve pressed a kiss against Bucky’s moving lips and waited for him to calm down, “I had been thinking about it for a while now. This last mission… it felt as if it should have been my last. I did a lot of work, did a lot of things that will never wash away but…” He looked up at Bucky, pressed a hand against his jaw, “I couldn’t go out there knowing I could… leave you behind.”

Bucky was stunned to silence as Steve’s thumb tenderly stroked his jawline. There was nothing he could really think to say to that. He knew how much of that job was embedded in Steve’s life, whether he wanted it to be or not. Bucky knew that Steve was like him in they both knew what they were good at but when it came to everything else, it could be overwhelming. In all honesty, Steve looked scared. Bucky smiled, slow and sweet,
“Steve…”

Steve smile was nervous, as if he was still unsure how Bucky would respond to it all, “I have enough money to hold us over until I get a new job I just, I couldn’t anymore.”

Bucky chuckled and nodded, then pulled him closer to press their lips together gently, “I’m happy. I’m so happy. I hated that job, Steve, I support this so much.”

They both laughed a little at that, at Bucky’s brutal honesty but it was met with mutual feelings. Steve had been horribly sick of that job, just never really accepted it until that mission. Bucky treasured that memory, thought about it often actually. Steve had picked up doing painting commissions for restaurants or fancy hotels, even sometimes designed new logos or designs for a random allotment of uprising companies. It helped that Steve had friends in high places. Once when Steve was officially resigned from his job, he was able to talk some more about those people exactly. That was when he mentioned that he worked with Tony Stark.

“Wait. As in, Stark Industries Stark?” Bucky asked around a chocolate covered strawberry. He had been sprawled across a lounging chair in Steve’s studio office, watching him paint while the sun started to go down. It cast the room in beautiful shades of amber and gold this time of year, so he could be found in here pretty often.

Steve sighed and nodded, dipping his brush into the jar of water quickly, “Yes, the same. Don’t let him hear you say that, he’s prone to gloating about that.” He sounded tired, as if that argument had been had many times. Bucky chuckled.

“What did he do in your super secret boy band? Was he the synth player, he looks like he would play synth. Or guitar.” Bucky reached for his bowl of strawberry ice cream near by. He had been going through a phase at that point, constantly snacking on the sour fruit. “I think he did a photoshoot once like that, actually. I think I saw it on some gossip magazine at a corner store a while back.” Bucky couldn’t help the almost dreamy sigh that left his mouth.

Steve chuckled tightly to himself, “I don’t think he knows how to play any instruments. But he’s an amazing computer engineer and wrote a lot of our programs that we ran for missions. Can’t say exactly what but he was good at what he did.”

Bucky watched him for a moment, as he sucked on the ice cream in his mouth languidly. He easily saw past Steve’s calm facade, aware of the minute changes in his tone. Sharp and a little held back. That could be interesting to play with, he thought. “How long you guys been friends?”

Steve seemed to cringe at the word friend a little, as if the concept was kind of foreign to him. Bucky understood in a way, Tony was technically a co-worker to him.

“Since before I met you, so almost seven years.”

Bucky whistled lowly while he leaned back in his chair, “You guys must be close, huh?”

Steve put his paintbrush in the jar of water, put his palette to the side and reached for his handrag. Bucky got to watch all of his glorious back muscles stretch and flex, what with how big Steve’s desk was and how tight his shirt was. He licked ice cream from the side of his lip as Steve answered,
“You could say that.” He turned in his chair to face Bucky, “Why so curious about Tony Stark?” He grinned, and Bucky saw the poorly concealed jealousy in his expression.

Bucky grinned. He shrugged as if to brush it off then moved to lay down on his back in the seat while he still ate ice cream slowly. He closed his eyes lazily, “He just seems cool. Kind’f dreamy.”

There was a moment of silence before Bucky heard Steve’s chair roll closer. He grinned to himself and reached for another spoonful of ice cream, the bowl on his stomach. Before he could get the spoon to his lips though, Steve grabbed the utensil from his hand. Bucky pouted angrily and looked at him,
“Steve.”

“Got a crush, Buck?” He asked flat out, his face trying desperately to appear cool and collected. Bucky squinted at him and shifted to lay on his side, his elbow anchored on the plush couch to hold his chin up in his palm.

“What if I did?” Bucky sniped back, a devilish smirk on his face.

Steve scowled at him and pushed forward to lay a kiss on his lips. He bit and latched onto Bucky’s bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth and pulled to earn a low slack jawed moan from Bucky. Steve kissed him as he pleased, Bucky melted under him, reaching up for Steve’s shirt while he practically tongue fucked his mouth. When Steve pulled back, they both were panting and staring at each other. Steve then gave him a wicked grin, especially with how obscenely red his lips were in the golden rays of the evening sun.
“Cause I think I’d have to remind you who you belong to.”

Bucky whimpered then smirked, scooting up to get face level with him, “I’d like to see you try.”

When he actually met Stark, Bucky had been blushing the entire time since all he could think about was Steve. He held on to Bucky’s hand in a near death grip for nearly the entire night, kept them close enough to always be within each other sights. If Bucky wasn’t so absolutely gone for Steve like he was, he would have been annoyed at how over-possessive he was being of him but instead he couldn’t help loving it.

Bucky loved how Steve kept him close enough to let his eyes ravage him in a suit, or close enough to feel the heat of their knees touching while sitting at the bar. When Bucky had finally been introduced to Tony, Steve had kept a possessive around his waist. Bucky grinned and held his hand out, “Good to meet you finally, Mr. Stark. Steve has told me so much about you.”

Surely, he got the reaction he had hoped for. He knew how he had sounded and he worded it exactly so to be ambiguous and possibly suggestive, just to see how Steve would respond. But he was met with silence. He wasn’t disappointed though since he didn’t necessarily let go of his hand. Infact, his grip tightened. Tony threw back a loud laugh,
“Careful there, Barnes, you don’t want to get on Captain America’s bad side.” Bucky looked at him confusedly at the name.

“Tony.” Steve said warningly, standing up straighter next to Bucky.

“Oh my god he hasn’t told you that story did he?” Tony rushed out, a proud grin on his face. He turned around to look behind them, through the thrall of people in the dance hall of Tony’s after party. For what, Bucky wasn’t too sure, but he got to wear a suit so he didn’t really care. When he seemed to have spotted the person he was looking for he shouted,
“Private Hawkeye, report for duty! Bucky doesn’t know the Captain America story.”

They had spent the rest of the night together, all of Steve’s old squadron together as they told jokes or stories about each other. That was also when he found out that Natasha and Clint were dating. When he asked Steve about it, he simply got the cold shoulder and a clipped answer. That was when he started to panic a little. But it was a different sort of panic, an excited kind of panic. Like the approaching dip of a roller coaster, he felt a little scared but mostly excited for the ride.

When they had gotten home, Steve made sure to remind Bucky who he belonged to.

Those were just a few of the most memorable times that Bucky could think about. Along with the day he had made his first omelette without breaking it, the time he had cut most of his hair off for the first time in years and so on, so forth. He’d been through a lot. His life has never been a quiet ride, like the lazy river or a slow ferris wheel, it was always like bumping cars or mousetraps.

But no matter what happened, he pulled through. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse. Sometimes a bit of both. It’s simply been easier with Steve around.

x

Bucky waited anxiously for his phone to ring. He dressed up in his newest suit nearly an hour ago, a solid black ensemble that was tailored in all the right places. He had spent nearly an hour on his hair from sheer nervousness. Today was the premier of Steve’s first exhibit as the feature artist. It was a stressful moment, Steve had been busy for months to prepare for it and he could feel how thick the air was with tension in the house leading up to it. It was a big deal for him, it was the first time he was being recognized in the art community, and by important art critics apparently. Bucky was nervous for him.

His phone rang sharply on the bed next to him, it had snapped him out of his long train of thought. He answered breathily, “Hello?”

“Bucky. Hi baby,” Bucky rose a brow and grinned confusedly, “Listen, Natasha is swinging by to pick you up now, she should be there in about ten minutes.” He sounded as if he were in a car, kind of nervous but mainly excited. Bucky nodded before he realized he couldn’t see him.

“Okay.” He took in a breath, “How are you feeling?”

Steve let out a strained chuckle, “Hanging in there… Tell me what you’re wearing.”

Bucky laughed, “So this is that type of call?”

Steve laughed with him, “I’m just curious is all. I know you couldn’t decide on which tux this morning.” Bucky heard voices in the background, teasing and laughter. He grinned, Steve wasn’t alone.
“Who are you with?”

“Tony, Clint, and a new guy.”

Bucky oohed, “Hi new guy.”

Steve echoed that back to his friend, hearing the name Pietro there. Then Steve came back to the phone, “Now will you tell me?”

Bucky smiled warmly. He looked down at himself, “The black one.”

Steve sucked in a breath and sounded as if he had clutched the phone just then, a static sound as his hand brushed the microphone. Bucky laughed, he knew Steve partial to this outfit.

He heard more laughter when Steve put the phone back to his ear, “Good. I liked that one on you. I’ll see you later, kay?”

Bucky bit his lip with a shy smile, “Love you.”

Steve groaned, but didn’t sound at all irritated. “Love you too, bye.”

As predicted, he heard a chorus of coos and mocking voices in the background before Steve hung up. Bucky shook his head and started to gather his things from around the room. When he heard his phone beep with a text message, he knew it was Natasha. He came out and admired the new car she was in,
“When did this happen?” It was expensive looking to start, sleek; black; and shiney. Bucky could nearly see his reflection as he approached the car. It was dark out so he couldn’t see Natasha until she rolled down her window,

“You like? Tony got Steve a fancy bed, I get a happy two year anniversary car.” She leaned against the door, “S’cause I’m the favorite.” She tried to look at him innocently.

Bucky scoffed as he walked around to get to the passenger side, “You mean you scare him the most?”

Natasha chuckled to herself and closed her window when Bucky got in, “Is there a difference?”

Bucky laughed, “Not to you apparently.”

Natasha looked over him quickly, grinning to herself mutely. When Bucky looked at her, he noticed that they matched. In that they were both wearing a very sleek black outfit. Natasha was wearing a form fitting little black dress, with black heels at bottom. Her hair was pinned up to bouncy curls, looking almost as if she actually had short hair. Bucky wasn’t blind, she was absolutely stunning. They both caught that they had been briefly checking each other out and laughed about it,

“You’d think we never get laid or something.” Natasha laughed out while she put the car in drive and headed to the gallery.

Bucky chuckled and reached to adjust his tie with a florish, “Speak for yourself.”

The ride was filled with chatter and laughter, all while Natasha drove not as urgently as she probably should have but it was still enjoyable. While she was still technically his boss, since he still worked at the supermarket, they had gotten much closer since finding out that she had previously worked with Steve. Besides Steve, she was probably his closest friend. When Steve still worked in the agency and would spend his time away, she would also come by with food or movies to distract him.
“I know the feeling,” She once hummed to him, while painting his toenails and watching a movie about astronauts lost in space, “People like us have to keep strong, no matter what happens. Sure gets tiring, but it rewards well.”
Out of everyone that Steve had connected Bucky with, he was most appreciative that he got to meet Natasha.

They ended up bit late but Bucky had an idea that she might have done that on purpose. When they gave the car to the valet driver, they quickly checked each other outfits and made sure everything was in place before heading inside. Right now was just the cocktail hour, which Bucky was a little upset he missed for the food but it was worth it when he saw Steve. He looked as if he was a little panicky but let out a breath when he saw Bucky. Then sucked it right back in as if realizing finally that it was him. Bucky grinned and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Natasha put a hand on his bicep, “You guys are disgusting.”

Bucky laughed a little and broke their eye contact briefly to look at her, “Like you’re any better.”

Natasha shrugged, “Better at hiding it. Go.” She nudged him forward. He grinned and nodded, leaving to go join Steve.

It looked as if he was talking to people but promptly stopped when Bucky arrived. The group moved to not face them, giving a sense of privacy as Bucky approached him. Though he knew everyone was watching, he didn’t mind. He grinned and leaned up to press a quick kiss against his lips,
“Sup baby.” Bucky opened with a raised eyebrow, earning a hearty laugh from Steve. Bucky grinned and watched him laugh, noticing from the corner of his eyes that a few people also turned to watch them.

“I’m sorry.” Steve said while rubbing at the back of his neck abashedly.

“Really though?” Bucky started, shrugging a little and smiling, “You have never called me baby before. Or darling for that matter.”

“They were being so annoying, you know how Tony is-” Steve tried to explain his name slip, blushing but smiling brightly.

“Don’t you dare drag perfect Tony Stark into this, he did nothing wrong.” Bucky quipped back playfully and obviously in a joking tone.

“Oh you’re asking for it you little brat.” Steve growled out playfully, reaching forward to wrap his arm around his hips.

Bucky grinned and leaned away from him when he went to go kiss him, “Watch yourself Mr. Rogers, everyone’s watching.”

Steve chortled at that, shrugging and leaning back in for his kiss, “Good.”

Bucky grinned and kissed him like he wanted. It was playful and quick, unhelpfully fiery too. Steve pulled back and watched him, “I missed you.”

Bucky’s cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much, “It’s only been a couple of hours, get a hold of yourself.”

Steve sighed and looked up from Bucky’s mouth to his eyes, “I’m trying but how can I when you keep sweeping me off my feet?”

Bucky groaned and laughed lightly, airy and a little exasperated, “Oh Stevie, please work on your pick-up lines some more.”

Steve was about quip back with some kind of remark when a voice chimed in next to them,
“Ah, young love at it’s finest.”

There was then a soft smack against clothes and a whispered hush from the source. Steve and Bucky exchanged a short silent conversation, told between eyebrows and half mouthed words. Eventually Steve gave in just as Bucky turned to face Tony Stark. The entire moment wasn’t longer than a second,
“Tony. I always forget how good you look in steel blue, is that Armani?”

“How was your Memorial Day, Bucky?” Pepper, his wife with a sharp tongue and charming eyes, asked next to him. Everyone here at this point has had experience with Steve’s blatant jealousy, and Pepper was always the first to diffuse the situation. Bucky didn’t think she got jealous with his playful flirting, she actually seemed to enjoy flustering Steve sometimes as well.

“It was great, Pep, how about yours?” He felt Steve reach for his hand again. Bucky held on tight.

“Very nice.” She looked over at Tony, who was grinning a little too devilishly for Bucky’s comfort, “Tony,” She clenched at his bicep tightly, “Wanted to invite you to a dinner in Chicago for Fourth of July, if you’d be interested.”

Bucky let go of whatever inkling of suspicion was going on between the two to laugh, he just couldn’t help it. Just a few years ago, he would have never thought he’d be where he is now. Being invited to fly cross country just for a dinner,
“We’ll have to talk it over, that’s Steve’s birthday.” He turned his attention to Steve, who looked like he was scowling at Tony but dropped the expression when he noticed Bucky directing the conversation to him, “Did you want to do anything that day?” Bucky asked.

Steve cleared his throat then shrugged, looking down at their feet quickly before back at him, “Not really, no. I, uh, haven’t thought that far. Out yet. In the future.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him and shrugged, “I guess we’re free then.” He turned back to Pepper, “Approval pending.”

Pepper laughed lightly, as Tony continued with his weird smirk while he drank from his martini. Bucky had a weird feeling. As if they were hiding something from him, as if the way was Tony was being uncharacteristically quiet and Steve’s unmoving stiffness next to him was throwing some kind of red flag up in the air.

“Ooh-kay.” Bucky mumbled out awkwardly but let out a breath of relief when he saw a gallery worker come up to Steve.

They whispered to each other hushly and Steve nodded. He turned his attention back to Bucky,
“The cocktail hour is over, I guess. It’s time to open the doors…” Steve was so visibly nervous, he looked as if he were going to get sick.

Bucky smiled and reached up for his jaw, kissing him chastely but lovingly, “I’m excited. We’re all excited and you’re going to do fine.”

Steve inhaled and exhaled a bit too forcefully then nodded. “Come to the door with me.”

Bucky nodded and whispered out an okay. They both waved at the Starks before leaving. If Bucky had been paying attention, he would have heard Tony start laughing and Pepper frantically telling him to quiet down but Tony would keep going, saying how he had no idea.

Steve lead them both to the entryway to the exhibit, up a wide and short flight of stairs. The cocktail hour was being held in the extravagant foyer of the building, large and modern looking with sleek counters and solid white fixtures. There were big windows that had a beautiful view of the city, showing off the twinkling and dazzling lights of the urban life. The owner of the building first thanked everyone for coming and introduced Steve to the metaphorical stage. He looked at Bucky one last time and received a warm smile of encouragement. They let go of each other’s hand and Steve went up to go speak briefly,

“Thank you all again for coming. It’s been a huge honor to get to collaborate with everyone to get this exhibit up. I’ve had the honor of having an abundant amount of support and inspiration in my life, and there is nothing I’d like to do more than return the favor as much as I could. Which is why I’ve decided to donate half of all proceeds from tonight’s gallery to New York’s Center for Arts Education.” There was a small round of applause that had Steve looking flustered and a little uncomfortable. He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well, I guess with that, I’d like to once again welcome you all to my exhibit, ‘Home’.”

Steve turned around and looked at Bucky. He perked up a little from his spot where he had been dreamily watching Steve to come on over next to him. They smiled at each other a little and the crowd gathered up the stairs. They went inside and everyone else followed, the quiet hallways now loud with chatter. Everyone seemed to scatter in every sort direction, looking at the carefully hung painters with hushed conversation. In Bucky’s opinion, it had been one of the best looking galleries he’s been to. Which is saying a lot, considering he’s been to quite a few since he’s started dating Steve. The floors were a polished dark wood, pristine and without a single scuff. The walls were a clean eggshell white, simple and the perfect palate for the paintings hung up. There were the same wide windows from the entrance also scattered around, showing off the light show of New York at night. The atmosphere was cozy and laid back, something pretty rare for galleries that were all about the stiff professionalism of the art industry in New York.

Bucky could feel the near palpable nervousness from Steve, who was walking stiffly but also a little jittery-like that Bucky pulled them to the side in a more secluded corner,
“Hey.”

Steve looked a little panicked as he looked at him, “What’s wrong?”

Bucky smiled curiously and shook his head, “I should be asking you that, you’ve been stiff as a board all night.”

Steve laughed nervously and shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Just… nervous. A lot of stuff happening at once.”

Bucky nodded, he got that. There was a lot going on just then. “But that’s a good thing, right? People look like they’re loving your art and if they don’t, they can suck it.”

Steve chuckled, this time a little less tight. His shoulders dropped a little and he looked at Bucky fondly, “Yeah. You’re right.”

Bucky straightened out his back and smiled smugly, “I know.”

Steve looked at him carefully for a moment, analyzing his face as if he were desperately trying to get a read on him. It made Bucky a little uneasy, “What?”

Steve bit his lip and took in a breath, he started, “Bucky-” But was immediately interrupted.

“There you are!” Bucky turned to face the new person. Sam was making their way to them and Bucky waved. He looked back at Steve a little apologetically, “We’ll talk about it later?”

Steve let out the breath he had sucked in earlier and nodded weakly, “Yeah.”

Bucky wanted to be concerned but Sam had already gotten to them. Bucky had met Sam a couple years into them dating each other and seemed to instantly hit off by comparing stories of Steve doing dumb things. Sam had much more intense stories compared to Bucky but Sam still laughed at Bucky’s inputs, so he figured it was a pretty fair fight.

“Hey man, congrats on the show.” Sam said when he approached Steve, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.

“Thanks, Sam.” Steve shook his other hand fondly. Bucky looked away momentarily to see the crowd around them, how they were appreciating the artworks that Steve had spent all of his free time between commissions on. He stepped to the side a little to face Sam better, noticing then that while his attention was distracted him and Steve were whispering things. He scowled and elbowed Steve a little,

“What are you guys talkin’ about?”

Steve’s eyes widen momentarily and he smiled tightly, trying to brush it off with a chuckle, “N-Nothing!”

Bucky was about to comment on how weird Steve was being but was eagerly cut off by Sam,
“Bucky, let me introduce you to Maria.” Sam suggested, turning a little to face the crowd. Bucky huffed and looked at Steve quickly, who simply shrugged.

Bucky let go of Steve’s hand and nodded, “Okay. Who's Maria?” He asked Sam as he turned to follow him.

While walking with Sam, Bucky looked at Steve one more time before the crowd gobbled him back up. He looked as if he were scolding himself, his brow stitched in together and his hands fidgeting in the pockets of his trousers. Bucky scowled and looked at Sam, “Is anyone else noticing Steve’s acting weird or am I going crazy?”

Sam had apparently been in the middle of saying something, stopping to look at Bucky briefly. He chuckled a little, “To be fair, Steve’s always a little weird. He’s probably just feeling a little overwhelmed, you know how he gets with crowds.”

Bucky thought about it silently for a moment before giving up. Sam was kind of quiet after that until they got to Maria, who was apparently a close work friend of theirs. She was also with a tall man with an eyepatch, very foreboding but turned out to just being a lot friendlier than he looked. They all walked around and looked at Steve’s work while talking. Sam and Maria seemed to keep trying not to look at each other while Fury, Steve’s apparent ex-boss, silently observed everything as an eagle would. They eventually met up again with Tony, who still looked suspiciously secretive but Bucky brushed it off easily.

The gallery started to empty out as the night came to a close, even the little group that Bucky was in shrunk in size. Leaving just Sam, Tony with Pepper, and himself. Natasha and Clint were nowhere to be seen, which confused Bucky but he was just tipsy enough on expensive champagne not to care. They were lingering around the main hallway of the exhibit, finishing off their flutes of bubbly idly. Bucky hadn’t seen Steve since separating off with Sam but he wasn’t that surprised. He was sure he had been spending this entire time networking and selling his work so, while Bucky missed him he was sure he was doing a lot of good work.

Bucky heard some muttering and hushed whispered, paired with the confident clicking of heels against the hardwood floors. “Bucky, Steve needs your help with something.” Natasha said when she showed up with Clint, the last remaining people in the building just them. Bucky rose a brow at her, tilting his head to the side questioningly. Natasha just shrugged, “I’m just the messenger. Plus I gotta get this dirtbag home, someone drank too much free champagne.” Natasha gestured toward Clint, who was essentially hanging off of her arm.

It was as if there was a ripple effect, everyone sighed or checked their phones and announced it was their time to leave too.

Bucky was confused at first, but figured it’s just what happens when you hang out with a bunch of people at once. Bucky wouldn’t really know, he was still getting the hang of being around groups of people willingly. They all said their goodbyes at once, leaving Bucky alone in Steve’s exhibit. Before Natasha left, she called out, “He’s at the back of the gallery, there’s only a couple of paintings left, he’s with one of the last ones.”

Bucky waved goodbye one more time and watched them all leave. The building was significantly quieter now with everyone gone, too early for the cleaning crew to come in. Bucky stuffed his hands into his pockets and made his way to the back of the building. He lingered around some paintings that were left while on his way there, looking over them one last time. Then he realized when he saw one he didn’t see before that he never ventured this far back. The group he was with probably distracted him enough to not even realize how much more there was. Bucky has seen all of them before, technically, just not ever complete like this. It felt as if he were looking at them all for the first time.

Bucky heard a clatter and familiar voice cursing in a separate room nearby, which made him look down the hallway where the sounds came from before he headed toward it. He looked into a room with the door propped open, a single painting inside with a spotlight on it. Bucky immediately recognized it and went inside, staring at it intently. It was a steely grey canvas, with patches of painted on rust. In the center of the frame, were very familiar looking stars and moons. Bucky remembered it, it looked just like how his van did from all the way back then. Bucky smiled and stopped right in front of it. It was an exact replica of the van ceiling that was now moldy and completely uninhabitable. He missed it in some ways, the perfect seclusion. The way he had made it his own. But there was nothing about the van that the house couldn’t replace plus more. Looking at the painting reminded him of all that.

It reminded him of the pain he’s had to go through, the struggles and the hardship he was forced to do. The sacrifices. Bucky felt as if he were overflowing with these emotions, and his eyes started to water from it all. It was painted so delicately, every little detail exactly the same as if he were laying down and looking up. The only difference was that the stars and moons were painted with gold leaf, fresh looking and bright in the contrast of dull steel grey and rust. It felt as if he were looking at the fresh new beginning he was offered when Steve came into his life, golden and shining.

A throat cleared behind him and Bucky turned around to see Steve standing at the entrance of the room. Bucky gave him a watery smile and pointed his head back at the painting a little,
“That’s cute.”

Steve chuckled and started making his way inside, “Cute’s not the word I was kind of hoping for.”

Bucky pushed his bottom lip into his mouth, “Then what were you thinking?”

Steve stopped directly in front of him and shrugged, “Awe-inspiring, maybe.”

Bucky squinted a little, “That’s not a word, that’s two words pretending to be one word.”

Steve laughed breathily, and it was the first real laugh that’s come out of his mouth all day. Bucky smiled.

There was a small moment of silence between them then Steve pulled in a breath, looking down at their feet a little, “I’m sorry I’ve been weird all day.” He started, “I just… I’ve been nervous.”

Bucky nodded, sniffling a little from still being emotional from the surprise painting.

“I’ve just been… thinking so much. About us.” Bucky’s stomach dropped a little. He wanted to interrupt but something told him not to, to let Steve continue. Steve shook his head a little and looked up at Bucky, “How much I love you. And how I know that you love me back.”

Bucky sucked in a breath. He was starting to get idea where this might be going.

Steve licked his lips and fidgeted again with his hands in pockets, “And maybe I have been thinking a lot about the future. About us and the future.”

Bucky was going to have a heart attack, he felt it. It was if his heart was going to explode out of his chest from how hard it was beating. Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a flat velvety box. Bucky immediately looked down at it. There was absolutely no way…

“And I’ve realized, I couldn’t plan anything without first thinking of you. I… want you there the entire time. I can’t plan out how to retire or if I wanted to get a new car or anything without thinking of you first.” Steve smiled bashfully, “Do you think the same for me?”

Bucky breathed out a yes, feeling silly for immediately answering but couldn’t help it. Steve looked up from the box to Bucky’s eyes. He looked relieved to hear it, as if Bucky were going to say something else.

Gingerly, Steve opened the slim box. Inside, a ring turned in it’s spot inside the case to present itself proudly, polished metals glimmering in the low light of the room. Bucky looked up from the ring to Steve in disbelief,
“Bucky, will you marry me?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Bucky said lowly, completely in disbelief. He looked back down to the ring then to Steve again. There was no way this was happening, there was no way Steve was asking him to marry him. He knew he must have looked silly, with how his eyes went back and forth from the ring to Steve. The ring was gorgeous with two layers of metal, one polished to a sleek shine while the other looked like brushed steel, and a dark red garnet in the middle. It wasn’t at all traditional but it was perfect, thick and looked as if it would fit perfect around his finger.

Steve looked nervous when Bucky looked back up at him again, “Is that… is that a-”

Bucky’s eyes widened in recognition, he still hadn’t given him his answer, “Oh, yes! Yes, oh my god yes I’ll marry you!” Bucky immediately sprung up to wrap his arms around Steve’s neck, who apparently was shaking a little. Bucky chuckled against his ear and pulled back enough to put his hands on Steve’s jaw, leaning in to kiss him, “Did you think I’d say no?”

Steve laughed nervously, “I didn’t until you didn’t say anything.”

Bucky laughed and nodded again, “I will. I’ll marry you, oh my god that sounds so weird finally saying it out loud.” Bucky pulled back enough to let Steve take his hand to put the ring on.

“Good weird or..?” Steve asked, his hands still shaking a little.

Bucky snorted a little, “Yes, good weird.”

Steve looked up from Bucky’s hand now with the ring to his eyes. Bucky couldn’t help but lean back in again to kiss him. This time it was slower and passionate, Steve dropping the ring box to wrap his arms around Bucky. His hands spread out across Bucky’s back and they kissed as if it were the end of the world. Bucky pulled away just enough to look at him, “You really want to marry me..?”

Steve seemed to understand why he asked and nodded slowly, smiling a little, “Yeah, I do.”

Bucky smiled and rested his forehead against Steve’s. He chuckled to himself a little after realizing all of the tells from the night that this was coming, “God, you’re such a bad liar.”

Steve groaned and pulled back from their embrace a little, abashedly rubbing at the hair at the back of his neck, “Christ, Bucky, I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Bucky looked at him. He was going to marry this guy. He laughed a little, “I did. But I didn’t think…” He looked down at his hand, where the ring fit just as snugly as he thought it would, “Didn’t think you were going to ask to marry me.”

Steve reached for the hand that Bucky was staring at, making him divert his attention back up to him. He was smiling, true and so wonderfully Steve. Then it was as if Steve remembered something and he took his phone out from his pocket and texted someone. When Bucky looked at the screen it was Natasha. He was apparently telling her he said yes. Bucky rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around his waist, pressing close against him warmly. He felt as if he were filled with helium, he was impossibly giddy and like he was going to start floating away at any second. Steve Rogers wanted to marry him.

“Why wasn’t that one part of the gallery?” Bucky asked, looking over at little at the painting but not taking his head off of Steve’s shoulder, no matter how awkward the angle.

“It’s for you.” Steve mumbled back. Bucky smiled. Of course it is.

x

When they left the gallery, not much longer after Steve had proposed, they were met by their friends who was supposed to have left already, in the parking lot. Bucky looked at all of them and rolled his eyes with a grin. Of course they knew about it too. Steve was the worst with secrets, he probably was only able to plan most of this out with their help.

Immediately, after Pepper noticed them first, they all perked up and faced them. There was a chorus of ‘Congratulations!’, where everyone hugged them and shook hands. It was fairly warm out, it being the very beginning of Summer, so they stood around the parking lot to all gush and talk about their very recent engagement. But Bucky was starting to get antsy. There was no way that he wasn’t going to give Steve a night of his life for this, for everything. He wanted nothing more than to take his fiance home and fuck his absolute brains out. Which Steve must have picked up on since he was starting to tug Bucky toward the truck.

The ride had been otherwise filled with Steve talking about the other happenings of the night. Apparently while Bucky had been roaming all night with their friends, he was selling a ton of his paintings. At first he was against selling them, Bucky remembered, said it made him feel like he wasn’t doing it for the passion. But then he had decided to do it when he also decided to donate some of it. Now he was talking about how many people want commissions from him and how the gallery itself bought a few pieces. It was amazing getting to see Steve blossom like this, excited and full of so much life. Bucky could only smile and nod, and Steve understood. It was then one of the best nights of his life, he had decided later on.

x

Then came the engagement party. Steve and Bucky didn’t really want to do much, maybe just a cook out or something. But anything involving Natasha Romanoff and Tony Stark would always be more than just a cook out. It started when Natasha managed to convince everyone to bring gifts. It was apparently a ridiculously long email that had lasted an entire week of online fighting over gifts. Natasha won by declaring that she was going to get a gift and if anyone else wanted to join her, they were welcome to.

And Tony Stark would never let go of a chance to show off his opulence. He always brags that he’s the best at gifts, despite how much Pepper disagrees.

Then came Sam and Clint, who both claimed to have just “saw it and thought of them” when everyone knows they were just as eager to get them things as everyone else. So now the cook out turned into some kind of gift thing. Which made Bucky and Steve feel incredibly awkward when they found out it was a thing that was going to happen. They just kind of let it happen.

Then Tony suggested a cake. Or desserts. Why not all the desserts, actually?

Which lead to another group related email chain that talked about who was going to bring what kind of desserts. Even Maria, which was the only time she responded to the messages, said she would bring something for dessert.

After a constant stream of arguing over emails, everything had been managed to get planned out for the day. Steve and Bucky felt overwhelmed but over all pretty relieved. They didn’t have to do much to actually plan the day besides mention a cook out and everything else just worked itself out. When Bucky bought up how thankful he was for not having to worry about cleaning up since Tony hired some kind of cleaning service (He was sure he would end up making a mess either way, if he was completely honest, especially there was already a confirmation on tequila so he decided to be safe than sorry.) Steve just laughed and agreed.

When it came to the day of, it was a bright and sunny June evening. The sun was thick and heavy in the skyline, everything turning a hazy orange around them. Bucky had decided to spruce their small backyard up a little with some fancy lounge chairs and lanterns scattered around for when it got dark. Steve put up a couple of Bluetooth speakers and they were as ready as they needed to be. The first to arrive was Natasha. She walked in their an armful of gifts, a big and unimposing smile on her face,
“Evening boys. Where’s the table?”

Steve and Bucky just kind of gaped at the stack of wrapped gifts and pointed at the fold out table in the living room. The small gathering of people turned out to come out much bigger than Bucky thought. When word had apparently gotten around that Captain Rogers got engaged, it seemed a bunch of people were interested in at least saying congrats. At first it made Bucky nervous, a ton of people just kept showing up randomly as the night went on but they never lingered for long. The most people at their house at once was about fifteen and that was a lot from what he was used to, which was none.

Bucky got to meet the rest of Steve’s old crew, and a few other Captains of different squadrons too apparently. His favorite had to be Captain Danvers, who showed up loud as a hurricane and strong like one too. She bustled in with a boisterous laugh when she saw the backyard and hugged Steve until he spurted out for breath,
“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna marry him!”

Bucky laughed a little and looked between the two. Steve managed to get her to let go to explain,
“Bucky, this is Carol Danvers.”

“There should be a Captain in there somewhere.” She commented while reaching for a beer from the table near by.

“Captain Carol Danvers.” Steve remedied, grinning and sipping his drink.

“Nice to meet you finally, Bucky. Steve has talked a lot about you.” Carol immediately admitted, making Steve cough a little into his drink.

Bucky laughed, “Good stuff I hope.”

Carol grinned playfully, “Only sometimes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and looked at Steve, “Of course.”

“What he probably also hasn’t told you was how he gushed how much he wanted to marry you the second you two became official.” Carol said casually before taking a sip of her beer.

Steve turned the brightest red that Bucky had ever seen from that, making him burst out laughing and nodding, “That sounds like something Steve would do.” He looked over at him for his reaction to that. But instead of intense embarrassment he saw that he was looking back at him. There was a peculiar look on his face, almost as if he were grateful. Bucky heard Carol chuckle a little next to them and leave to say hello to the others.

As she left Bucky raised a brow at Steve, “Gushed, hm?”

Steve chuckled and pecked a quick kiss against his lips, “What can I say, you’ve always had me.”

Bucky scoffed playfully and reached up to squeeze at Steve’s cheeks, puckering his lips a little, “You need to stop that.”

Steve tried to smile despite his grip, “What’s wrong, Bucky, don’t like when I’m sweet on you? Give me sugar, baby, come on!” Steve tried to push through his grip and kiss him again, puckering his lips tightly and making kissing noises.

Bucky laughed and pushed him further away, “Stop this, whatever you’re doing, stop it!”

With another surge of strength, Steve managed to push through Bucky hold and get his lips on his cheek. He started to press wet kisses him all over his face while Bucky laughed and tried to push Steve away, “Stop it, you’re so gross!”

“At least wait ‘till we’re drunk to get frisky over there, boys, I have yet to drink Stark under the table!” Natasha yelled out with a group agreeing cheers. The boys looked at each other one last time and Bucky shrugged a little before letting go to join the others as well.

Bucky couldn’t help but glance at his ring as the night went on, still in disbelief despite it being nearly a month since they actually got engaged. He never really saw himself as the marriage type growing up, especially while in college and all hell broke loose around him. He just always thought he’d be that drifter that just did meaningless relationships or nothing. Never would he have thought that he would be here, surrounded by new friends and with a wonderful man that loves him enough to be his husband. That was when he decided to take Steve’s last name instead of having both. He was always just Bucky, never really Bucky Barnes. But he did always feel welcome in the Rogers home and he definitely considers Steve family. He must has spaced out when he came to this conclusion since he felt a small push at his left shoulder to see Steve looking at him questioningly. Bucky smiled and shook his head, tilting to the side a bit to rest his head against his shoulder while watching Natasha and Tony do shots.

x

They had all decided that everyone was either too drunk or too tired to open gifts so the designated drivers drove people back and the happy couple went to bed. Steve took Bucky apart slowly that night, getting him begging more than once. They went slow, taking their time with each other since they’ll have the rest of their lives together apparently. Now Bucky laid pliant and lazy in Steve’s arms, practically on top of him while Steve’s fingers rubbed at the base of Bucky’s neck where his short hairs just barely reached his fingertips. It’s been driving him insane the whole time, the light tease of his hands in his hair, but he didn’t really mind. Instead he melted further in the embrace, feeling so completely satisfied.

“I was thinking during the party a little..” Bucky started quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Steve nodded sleepily, “Mhm..”

Bucky took in a slow breath, “I was thinking.. I could take your last name?” He asked, trying to move back to look up at him but Steve kept him right where he was. It felt oddly securing.

“Okay. Are you sure?” Steve mumbled out, his fingers finally sliding up into his hair. Bucky let out a soft whisper of a groan, almost like a purr.

“Yeah…” He breathed out, “Yeah.” Bucky repeated a little dumbly.

Bucky felt Steve laugh, it was light and barely even there, but felt so good against his chest,
“Why do you want my name?”

Bucky swallowed, regaining his composure a little. He was, after all, still deep within post coital bliss, “I never… really felt like a Barnes, I guess.”

Steve nodded again, “Okay.” His fingers scratched up into the crown of his hair, messing up some of the longer locks up top, “James Buchanan Rogers than?”

Bucky smiled shyly and shoved his hot face into the crook of Steve’s neck, “Yeah.”

Steve wrapped his arms completely around him and pulled him in tight, “I love it.”

Bucky hummed and slid a hand up Steve’s side. They stayed like that until Bucky couldn’t stand being so dirty anymore, peeling himself away from Steve’s embrace to clean up while he changed the sheets. It was so impossibly domestic, something that Bucky has really come to fall in love with while living with Steve. It was the most tender feeling, waking up to Steve cooking breakfast in his boxers or reading a book while doing laundry, it was always incredibly comforting. He came back to see Steve laying under the sheets with his eyes closed, the smell of clean linens thick in the air. Bucky smiled a little and crawled under the sheets with him. Steve turned to face him and pressed a quick kiss against his lips,
“Love you.”

Bucky let out a soft breath and melted into the comfort of the fluffy sheets and firm pillows, “Love you too…”

Steve turned back around to get comfortable, giving Bucky the perfect view of his glorious back that was lightly streaked with his nail marks in some places.

x

After a month of planning the wedding, which Bucky and Steve are still trying to figure out a date, they came to a stop. Steve’s birthday was less than a week away and they had accepted Tony’s invitation to Chicago. The plane ride was long, Bucky felt stiff and nauseous by the end of it but was overwhelmed with excitement none the less. He had never left New York before, except for the few rides to the ‘Jersey Shore.’ So being an a whole new state, all expenses paid trip was something that he was very excited for. Steve seemed a little bored by it, used to the flights and extravagance but seemed to get more hyped up with Bucky as time went. He listened to Bucky as he rattled off the sights he wanted to see and things he wanted to do, getting more and more excited as the flight went on. They had agreed on spending the weekend in Chicago, a better chance to see everything they wanted.

But then came July Fourth, Steve’s birthday. Steve had woken up from a nightmare sometime early in the morning, waking Bucky up by his sudden movements. Steve was sitting up, nearly panting and looking around the unfamiliar hotel room they were in. Bucky frowned and slowly got up onto his elbows,
“Stevie…” He whispered out.

Steve turned around suddenly to look at Bucky. In the darkness, he was barely able to make out his expression but he already knew. It was panic and fear, he was very familiar with the look by now. He hummed and rubbed the spot Steve was just laying in,
“Lay back down, Steve.”

Steve looked back and forth between Bucky and the horrid spot he just sat up from. Apparently he won whatever internal debate there was since Steve slowly got back down. Bucky gently pressed a hand against his chest, over the fast and strong flutter of his heart,
“Close your eyes, breathe with me.”

So they lay there for little less than an hour, breathing together in silence until the sun came up. Finally, Steve let out a sigh,
“I miss the cats.” He admitted.

Bucky chuckled sleepily. They are a big help in times like this, they would cuddle around Steve protectively until everyone fell back asleep. Right now it was just them. They had hired a pet sitter, some photographer kid that Steve took a shining to. Bucky hoped they were all alright, but was pretty confident they were since they hadn’t gotten any bad calls. And it’s only been a day.

“I’m sure they miss you too.” Bucky hummed.

Steve was just off the rest of the day. Bucky had fallen back asleep but it seemed as though Steve wasn’t able to. Bucky tried giving him apologetic kisses for sleeping but Steve just smiled tightly and got up to get ready for the day. Bucky sighed and flopped back down onto the bed. He looked at the hotel room clock and saw it about nine in the morning. They had told Tony and Pepper they would have brunch since they were the only ones awake right now. Everyone else had apparently late flights that left them all sleeping in.

Bucky was desperately trying not to think that it will become some weird almost double date. That he’ll be awkward and say something weird. Just, hanging out with Tony Stark always felt so surreal. But Steve was pretty solid next to him, thankfully. They sat next to each other at some breezy restaurant, blissfully casual and pretty down to earth. It felt more like a cafe than a restaurant, warm and filled with chatter. Tony was leaning back in his seat while chugging down his third cup of coffee in an hour, being his usual eccentric self. Pepper, as always, was poised and a constant calm force. Bucky simply felt humbled whenever he was with her, in some way.

“You know, Steve, I can extend your stay here if you want.” Tony offered out of the blue, looking around the restaurant with a sort of whimsical look on his face, “Get to enjoy the city some more.”

Steve chuckled around a bite of his waffles, which looked incredibly fluffy but crispy too. Bucky had been trying to steal a bite when Steve wasn’t looking but he’s been caught each time. Just as he’d try to jab his fork over, Steve would take the bite he had been focusing on. It was really frustrating and had been taking up most of his attention for first half of their brunch.

“It’s alright, Tony. We have the cats at home, we can’t leave them alone. I think the Landlord is ready to eat Parker.” Steve put an arm down on the table that perfectly blocked any kind of access to his plate. Everyone else may have missed the triumphant look on Steve’s face but Bucky saw. It was game on.

Bucky glared at the appendage and leaned back in his chair. Alright then. He can play dirty too,
“Actually, Steve. We’re going to be so busy with the party and things, maybe we should stay a little longer. For us.”

All eyes were are Bucky now, who had been staying fairly silent for the brunch. Pepper had an amused look on her face, as if completely aware as to what was happening. Tony looked, terrifyingly so, excited.

“That is true. And lord knows Natasha will drag you half around the city on her,” Tony made air quotes with his fingers, “ ‘Quest to eat around the world’ mission. You’ll barely have time to yourselves.”

Steve smiled, and to the Starks it probably looked pretty normal, relaxed even. But Bucky knew. He was annoyed. The tell, also, was how he had clenched his fist around his fork a little too. Bucky was winning, as far as he could tell. He nodded along with Tony,
“I’ve never been here before. We could have more time to explore. What are the sights here in Chicago, Tony?” He directed his attention from Steve to Tony. Steve shifted a little in his seat, Bucky saw from the corner of his eye.

“Oh, there’s this kickass themed bar near downtown, very big right now.” Honestly, Bucky didn’t really care or really listen to Tony while he talked about whatever he thought would be fun in the area. Instead, he was focusing on how Steve finally moved his arm again.

That’s a white flag if he’s ever seen one.

“We’ll think about it.” Steve finally concluded with, smiling and relaxing in his seat, “Thank you for the offer though, Tony.”

Tony looked between the two then shrugged and went back to lazily sipping at his coffee. With the conversation diffused, they fell back into an air of comfortable silence around each other. There was some idle chatter between Tony and Pepper while Steve and Bucky had a sneaky stare down. Eventually, Steve gave in and put his utensils down, sighing happily and leaning back in his seat. Bucky not only was able to finally get a piece of the waffle, he also got to nab some of Steve’s tea. It wasn’t that Steve was annoyed with Bucky for eating his food but more so incredibly amused. It was just something they did.

Pepper cleared her throat a little, “So let’s talk about the wedding.” She seamlessly started, sipping from her orange juice.

Bucky nodded, chewing on the final bite of his omelette, “Okay. What about it?”

Pepper shrugged a little, “You guys decide on a date yet?”

Bucky looked over at Steve, who looked back. Steve shrugged and Bucky rolled his eyes playfully. He smiled and nodded, “Kind of, we’re thinking November.”

Pepper looked surprised, “That’s soon.”

Tony shrugged, “We got married pretty quick too.” He looked over from the windows, where he had been distractedly peering out of, to them, “Is it going to be a church wedding? Just cause I am technically not allowed to set foot in certain properties since I-”

Steve interrupted while adding milk to his suddenly refilled mug of Earl Grey tea, “No, it’s not going to be in a church.”

Bucky chuckled, “Wait, I want to hear this story.” He turned to look at Steve, “Is it a good one?”

Steve sighed tiredly, “No, not technically. Actually, I’m pretty sure he got arrested for what he did to those poor priests who didn’t deserve a single minute of Tony.”

Tony leaned back in his seat proudly, flicking his sunglasses down from the top of his head to cover his eyes, “Maybe one day you’ll reach my level, Barnes. Then you too, will be banned from all Christ of The Holy Trinity churches.”

Steve rolled his eyes and Bucky laughed. The waitress had come and started clearing off their table, everyone feeling full and pleased. While they got up and stretched from their seats, Bucky gently bumped shoulders with Steve,
“What do you wanna do now, birthday boy?”

Steve smiled tiredly and shrugged a little at Bucky. Pepper and Tony were having their own conversation so they had a moment to focus on each other just then.
“I don’t know.”

Bucky gave him a confused look, “Nothing comes to mind?”

Steve bit his lip in thought briefly and looked quickly back the Starks, who seemed to be still distracted. He took in a breath and hesitantly reached for Bucky’s hand,
“I kind of just want to go back to the hotel until dinner.” He mumbled out, looking away a little shyly.

Bucky adored that about Steve. No matter how long they have been together, he was still so quick to get bashful. The tinge of pink across Steve’s cheeks looked remarkable in the afternoon sun, the light coming in thickly from the big restaurant windows. Bucky smiled and nodded,
“Alright. We can go back.”

Steve still wouldn’t look at Bucky though, which was a little weird. So Bucky leaned forward and pressed a reassuring kiss at the edge of Steve’s mouth, “Come on, my back hurts.” He complained casually.

Steve looked over at Bucky with a small smile on his face, “Really?”

Bucky let out a short breath slowly from seeing him smile, no matter how little, “Gonna keep me waiting around, Rogers?”

Steve chuckled and turned to face Tony, “We’re gonna head back. Still have some unpacking to do.”

Tony abruptly stopped whatever conversation, almost arguement, him and Pepper were having to look at them, “Oh, alright. We’ll see you tonight at the the restaurant then?”

Bucky nodded, leaning against Steve a little, “Yeah.”

x

Steve was silent at first, when they got back to the hotel. It was still bright out but the shades over the windows dimmed it’s shine. The bamboo blinds were just thin enough to cast an amber glow around the hotel room. It was roomy and spacious, with earth tones that soothed both of them. Clean white linen sheets were put on the beds, along with two small squares of chocolate. Bucky immediately dashed over to grab one,
“This has to be my favorite part about this hotel, why do they give candy? It’s amazing.”

Steve chuckled and reached up to unbutton the first couple of the first ones. Bucky watched as he put the unwrapped square in his mouth. He sucked languidly on the candy,
“Puttin’ on a show for me, Rogers?” He grinned slyly.

Steve looked at Bucky suddenly, as if embarrassed that he was caught. He licked his lips quickly,
“Nothing you haven’t seen before.” He joked.

Bucky shrugged and stepped forward to get close to Steve, “Never gets old though.” He reached up to press a hand against his chest. He felt the thick cords of muscle underneath, warm to the touch and so completely solid. He slid his hand up from his chest to the back of Steve’s stiff neck,
“Let me help.”

Steve was watching Bucky intently, completely subdued to his gentle touches and hushed tone. He nodded and let him maneuver him to sit at the edge of the bed. Bucky started by continuing to unbutton his shirt, watching his as his deft fingers revealed the white vest top underneath. He pushed off the shirt from his shoulders so that only the tight top was left. His fingertips brushed against the defined line of Steve’s collarbone and he looked back up at him. Steve was watching him intently, curiosity splayed across his expression.

Bucky grinned and moved to sit on his lap. His legs curled at either side of Steve’s thighs and he leaned forward to kiss him. He felt Steve’s hands slide down his back and clutch at his ass, gripping onto him possessively. Bucky would never get used to the feel of the slip and slide of their lips together, the taste of Steve under him. How incredibly thick he was. Bucky wasn’t a little guy, never really was, but Steve could still carry him around like a sack of potatoes and that always got Bucky excited. When Steve lifted him up, Bucky wrapped his legs around his waist and kept kissing his mouth eagerly. Steve turned them around to lay Bucky down gingerly, but Bucky never let go of him. He kept Steve perfectly between his legs, his arms still wrapped around his thick neck.

Steve pulled back from the kiss and chuckled a little,
“Let go of me, how am I supposed to get you naked?”

Even now, years into their relationship, Bucky felt his stomach dip a little and he shrugged coyly, “Figure it out, tough guy.”

Steve grinned and shook his head. Through an intoxicating show of strength, Steve managed to move Bucky around enough to get most of his clothes off. Bucky immediately wrapped his legs back around Steve, getting comfortable on the bed under him while Steve started sucking bruises onto his neck. Bucky hummed and rolled his hips against his,
“You’re taking too long…”

Steve puffed out an air of laughter against his slick neck, making Bucky shiver, “Patience…”

Bucky groaned and slid his hands to pull at golden hair, “Patience later, fuck me now.”

Steve let out a punched out moan against his neck and shook his head. His big hands slid under his back and lifted him up from his bottom half so that Steve could sit back on his haunches. He plopped Bucky back onto his lap and sat up. Steve tilted his head to the side a bit with a saucy smile,
“Pretty sure it’s my birthday. I should be making the demands around here.”

Bucky rose a brow and folded his arms under his head, looking up at Steve. Bucky could feel his eyes on him, ravishing him completely. He grinned slyly, “Alright. Then what is it you want, birthday boy?” His lips popped around the syllables playfully, earning Steve’s gaze back up from his hardening cock under his briefs to his eyes.

Steve gave him a crooked smile, turning his insides to mush, before sliding off his undershirt. Bucky watched, not at all bashful about his blatant oggling. Steve tossed the shirt aside and slid his hands down Bucky’s legs, from knee caps to his hips,
“I think..” Steve started, hooking his fingers around the waistband of Bucky’s briefs, “That we go at my pace tonight. And you’re not allowed to ask for anymore than I give you.” He finished off with pealing off the last of his clothes, freeing his stiff cock from it’s confines.

A chill runs up Bucky’s spine, and a fire bursted in his belly. There was always something about Steve taking control of him like this, since Bucky was usually so adamant in being bossy in bed. So Bucky got comfortable and nodded, pursing his lips in fault thought, “I think I can do that.”

Steve looked up from Bucky’s cock, giving him a filthy grin before laying down in between Bucky’s legs to wrap his lips around his length. Bucky licked his lips and in took a breath, watching Steve intently while his mouth got to work. It was warm and welcoming, taking the whole length down easily. Steve’s gag reflex, or lack thereof, always impressed Bucky and got him gasping when his lips brushed against the base of his cock. He reached forward for Steve’s hair, his fingers tangling themselves with the blonde locks but he didn’t do much more. Just held on, maybe tugged just a little. Steve worked completely on his own in pleasuring Bucky, swirling his tongue and sucking with finesse. Bucky pulled up his legs and slowly started to wrap them around Steve’s back. Smoothly, Steve’s arms reached to wrap around his legs, his hands clutching down on the meat of Bucky’s thighs.

Absurdly, Steve went slow. So impossibly slow, taking his time with completely taking Bucky apart with his mouth. He would flick his eyes up and watch him squirm and moan. Everything he was doing, it was pushing all of Bucky’s buttons in perfect sequence, pushing him close to his edge. He pulled at Steve’s hair a little, gasping and looking down at him.
“Steve, stop, I’m gonna come.” He whispered out, his voice feeling distant to himself for a second there.

Steve grinned, a filthy picture that would definitely never wash away in Bucky’s head, and pulled back with a pop. A hand moved from leaving scratch marks on his thighs to jerk him off, slow as honey,
“And if I wanted you to?”

Bucky whined lowly and moved to get up on his elbows, “I don’t want to yet…” Even he knew how desperate he sounded, despite it.

Steve chuckled, rumbly and rough, and shook his head while licking casually at his length, “Doesn’t sound like it…”

Bucky grinned and bit at his lips. He couldn’t really reply, the fight leaving him with a twist of the wrist. Bucky gripped at the sheets and came there, gasping and clenching his legs around his neck. Steve had watched him the entire time, catching most of his come with his hand to keep it from spraying across his face. Bucky was a little disappointed. After catching his breath, he raised a brow at him,
“Scared of my come, Stevie?”

Steve chuckled and moved Bucky’s legs off of him to sit up onto his knees, “Nope.” He started licking at his fingers, putting on a show of licking each digit clean. Bucky plopped his legs flat onto the bed and watched breathlessly with a saucy smile,
“That’s hot, I like that.”

Steve laughed and moved to hover over Bucky, pressing his lips down against his. Bucky tasted himself, that was for sure, but he didn’t mind it to get to kiss Steve this way. For a while, Bucky refused to let go of him. They kissed slow and lazy, Steve pressing himself in between Bucky’s legs and heavy on top of him.

Eventually Steve pulled back and grinned, “I’m not done with you.” He commented, looking at Bucky’s enamored expression.

It lead Bucky to smirking, licking the slick spit from his lips, “Never said I was with you either.”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh and reached around for the end table where they stashed their travel sized lube. Bucky watched, curling his legs back up to give him better access, while Steve squeezed some onto his fingers to start tracing at his hole,
“How you doin’, Buck?”

Bucky smiled fondly then rolled his eyes, “I’m fine, get with it already.”

Steve clicked his tongue gently pressed against his entrance, but not pushing through, “That’s a little bossy over there, what happened to not asking for more than I give?”

Bucky rose a brow, “I ain’t askin’.”

Steve shook his head and let out a breath, “You’re lucky I love you.” He finally pressed in, giving Bucky barely the relief he was looking for. But it was enough, gently fingering him until he lax enough to take another. Bucky watched Steve, starting to breath heavy again. He watched while Steve was entranced by show beneath him. Eventually another finger pushed in, same with another. He seemed to stay with going slow tonight, taking his time with getting him stretched and bothered all over again.

Bucky started to huff in frustration, pressing down against Steve’s hand, “Steve, you’re taking forever.”

Steve stilled and looked up at Bucky, “Excuse me?”

Bucky puffed out a bothered breath, “Please…” He pulled his hips up a bit to sit back down on his fingers, “You’re drivin’ me crazy.”

Steve pulled his hand back and Bucky whined at the loss, glaring up at him, “What’cha doin’?”

Steve undid his jeans and pulled his own hard length out, reaching over the lube, “Making you wait.”

Bucky groaned and laid his head back down on the bed with a thump, “Come on, Stevie.”

Steve started giving himself a few cursory strokes, “You’re not getting it.” He shook his head a little disappointedly, despite the excited gleam in his eyes.

Bucky looked back up at him and glared. This time he stayed quiet, despite the complaint that begged to come out. Steve grinned and shrugged a shoulder, “Good enough.”

Steve finally guided himself right at his hole then pushed, slow and delicious. He was bigger than a few fingers so Bucky sucked in a breath in surprise. But they knew each other limits enough for him to keep going, Steve watching his face until he bottomed out. Bucky panted lightly and slid a hand up Steve’s arm, which were holding himself up above him.

“God that feels so good.” Bucky breathed out. Steve let out a breathy chuckle and wiggled around to get comfortable, making Bucky groan and tighten his hold on him. He felt every movement and slide with minute detail, making him grin weakly, “Gonna move or what?” His voice quivered a little, the confidence he had breaking apart slightly at the feel of Steve’s thick cock.

Steve moved to get up onto his knees inbetween Bucky’s legs, pushing back at his drooping hair and smirking. The sight was a visage to behold, so incredibly erotic that Bucky needed to clamp his legs a little closer against his hips. He had just came not too long ago but already felt so wound up again, “Keep that up and you’re not gonna come again tonight.”

Bucky clammed up and rolled his eyes. He let out a huff and watched Steve as he rearranged his legs so that one was stretched up to dangle over his shoulder.

Steve grinned, “In fact, you’re not allowed to say anything else. Not unless I tell you to.”

A deep shiver ran up Bucky’s spine. He swallowed and nodded. It was going to be hard, considering Bucky was a very chatty lover but he knew he could do it. He would make sure to do so, if anything to get back at Steve.

Steve rose a surprised brow at his silence and laughed, rolling his hips forward slowly and languidly, “You’re dying right now, aren’t you?”

Bucky almost answered, his mouth opening but clamping back shut. Steve answered his own question by suddenly changing pace, thrusting hard and unforgiving. Bucky let out a stuttered moan and gripped the sheets. He was desperate for this, for Steve to be unrelenting and do as he pleased with Bucky. Instead, just as Bucky seemed to get close to his crest, he slowed down again. Bucky let out a frustrated groan and glared up at him. It was at the tip of his tongue, he was ready to shoot out his annoyed remark until he saw the expectant and triumphant look on Steve’s face. Instead he tightened his jaw and grinned, rolling his hips down onto his cock with a raised eyebrow.

Steve let out a hot breath and clamped his hands onto Bucky’s hips, keeping him still and shaking his head at him, “Nu-uh, my pace.”

Bucky groaned in reluctance and tossed his head back onto the pillow. Steve kept teasing and playing with Bucky, taking his time with him and savoring the frustrated look on his face. It finally got to the point where Bucky couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t stand the slow roll of his hips and constantly being pushed to the edge just to be brought back down. Finally he cracked and whimpered out,
“Stevie, please…”

Steve looked up at his face and grinned, “What was that, Buck, couldn’t hear you.” He stopped moving altogether, simply letting Bucky feel him thick and hard inside.

“Please! I’m so close, please, Steve…” He breathed out, looking up from his wet lashes to Steve, who looked so incredibly smug it nearly radiated off of him.

Steve chuckled and pushed his sweat slick, golden hair from his forehead, “Only needed to ask, sweetheart.” He said sweetly, the condescending tone dripping from his voice.

Bucky glared at him but was given what he asked for, Steve suddenly getting into the right gear and fucking up into him. Bucky let out a sweet and long moan, arching his back and pushing himself further onto Steve’s lap.

Steve pulled out briefly to Bucky’s dismay to flip him onto his stomach, pushing down onto his back so his chest pressed snug against the mattress then hastily guided himself back in. His pace was rough, not once slowing down while Bucky panted and writhed under him.

Then Bucky felt it, deep in his stomach and tingling at the base of his spine, “Oh, Steve, fuck.. I’m gonna come…” He whispered out, the side of his face pressed against the pillow hotly.

Steve didn’t reply, instead kept his pace constant, pressing deeper and harder inside of him each time. Bucky reached up to grab the pillow under his head and spread his legs out, letting out a broken moan while the pressure pushed further up his body. Finally, he felt the bubble burst and he came, white hot and hard as hell.

Steve let out a deep groan above him, he reached down to wrap his arm around his waist and pulled Bucky up onto his knees so his back was pressed against his chest. He gently wrapped his hand around his neck and Bucky grinned as he looked over his shoulder at him,
“Gonna come for me, Stevie?” He was so oversensitive and fucked out, tired from what felt like hours of play that he was ready to beg for Steve to come, “Gonna make me yours?”

Steve whispered out a curse and Bucky curved his back to push his ass back against him, still receiving his hard cock welcomingly, “Come on, Steve…”

Finally, with a strangled moan, Steve followed Bucky to his own release. Steve gently let go of him so they could lay back down on the bed facing each other, the top sheet covered in their sweat and come. They laid with each other, panting with dopey and tired smiles on their faces,
“Happy Birthday…” Bucky whispered out, his voice slightly worn.

Steve chuckled and nodded, “Thanks…”

Bucky got up on his elbows after a minute to hover over Steve and kiss him, sweet and slow, “But if you ever tell me not to talk again, I might have to punch you in the face.”

Steve laughed this time, deep and tired sounding. After a while of lounging around on the bed, they got up together to clean up. It was still fairly early enough in the day to expect the housekeeping to come by and change the sheets, so Steve balled up the top blanket they had soiled and tossed it aside for later. Meanwhile, Bucky plucked a few of the ultra plush bath towels to take a shower, where he waited for Steve to join him. Even though they got a little sidetracked in the shower that just fit them both, they made enough good time to get to enjoy the rest of their day before the dinner.

x

After a lazy afternoon lounging in the hotel pool or the room, they got ready for the dinner. They were meeting the group at some American Cuisine restaurant that was highly recommended by Tony. It was also a popular spot for the holiday, since it had perfect view of the Navy Pier where fireworks were held.

Steve and Bucky enjoyed dinner with the whole group, chowed down on deliciously perfect burgers and fries, sucked down a couple of brews while waiting for the show to start. The windows to the restaurant were wide and big, showing off the glistening waters perfectly. Their table was pressed right against the window, the best view they could have possibly gotten. Of course Tony would spare no expense.

Bucky sat near the center of the wide table, with Steve to his immediate left. Steve had still been acting a little off but was much better than this morning, laughing easily and participating in the conversation fairly casually. Bucky wasn’t as worried. He was sipping at a Strawberry Daiquiri when the first firework went off. Steve tensed up next to him from the sudden burst of noise but Bucky reached for his hand and held on reassuringly. Steve looked over at him and let out a breath. They smiled at each other a little before looking back out the windows.

The group came into a comfortable silence, even Tony quiet, while they watched the fireworks. How they shot up then popped in a show of colors and glittering lights. The rest of the establishment came to a hushed lull too, completely enraptured by the show. Bucky had never felt so comfortable, so absolutely cozy with life. The fireworks were perfect, Steve was perfect next to him, and for once he felt as if his life was perfect as well.

More than anything, he felt ready. Ready for the next segment of his life to start. Soon he will be a Rogers, married to the absolute love of his life. Then would come his post-marital bliss, he’s pretty sure they’d want kids at some point. But for now, they still had to decide on their wedding cake flavor, where to go for their honeymoon, who to invite from Steve’s family that he barely speaks to but Bucky was fine with waiting. He could be patient. Since these were his last days as the kid from his past. The kid who was hurt and abandoned. Who was forced to be alone and live off of nothing. He’s ready for whatever comes next, and he always will be as long as he has Steve at his side.